


Girl Like That Part 1: Summer of the Black Hole Sun

by jalapeno_eye_popper



Series: Girl Like That [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abortion, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bittersweet, Canon Compliant, Child Abuse, Death Eaters, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Elemental Magic, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, Gentle femdom, Grooming, Healing, ISO Alpha & Beta Readers, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Infertility, Jealousy, Keep your therapist on speed dial, Kink, Legilimency (Harry Potter), Light Dom/sub, Love, Masturbation, May/December Relationship, Occlumency (Harry Potter), Oral Sex, Parent Death, Passion, Porn with Feelings, Potions, Pureblood Culture (Harry Potter), Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Rape, Redeemed Rapist, Romance, Scars, Sex Violence in War, Slow Burn, Smut, Teasing, Threesome, Voyeurism, Weekly Updates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 209,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jalapeno_eye_popper/pseuds/jalapeno_eye_popper
Summary: Liz wants to rock and roll, and the mid-90s might have been the perfect time to do it. Her mother had other plans, mysterious and dangerous and glorious. One year older than HP, Liz's own heroics are much more secret in their nature and much more muddy in their intent. Pureblood etiquette, elemental magic, and dubcon SMUT meet in this slow-burn that follows alongside HBP and DH canon. The Dark Lord *IS* the Black Hole Sun. Won't you come? ;)
Relationships: Severus Snape/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Girl Like That [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941979
Comments: 1
Kudos: 20
Collections: Girl Like That (AKA The Liz Fic)





	1. So Stay With Me And I'll Have It Made

**Author's Note:**

> ~Content Warning~
> 
> In this tale you'll find a Curse of the Gods (or a few), a handful of Legilimancers in desperate need of a Soul Healer, references to rare magicks both light and dark from around the world, and a Great Deal of Evil. 
> 
> Early chapters reference the violent rapes of women among the main character's friends and family, including details on the aftermath. Chapter 5 includes the brutal account of a 7th year Hogwarts student similarly violating a 1st year. And it keeps going. The main character is a sexually liberated young woman coming to terms with the reality that sex violence is common in war, and she herself may be complicit, after being groomed for the role. In addition, there's torture. There's death. There's a graphic first-hand account of a magical abortion. Themes of alcoholism and substance abuse. There's a whole gamut of reactions to it all, including destructive coping mechanisms. Keep your therapist on speed-dial, folks. Despite the main character's determination, knowledge, healing skill, and powerful friends, she cannot stop the evil curses upon her and by extension her loved ones.
> 
> There's also some hot lemony action between a teacher and a student, and the consent is dubious at best, especially with the vulnerable state of a traumatized teenager. She is 17 and well-experienced when this sexual relationship begins, and since that is the age of adulthood in the wizarding world, that is good enough for me to write about it. As Severus says, somewhere in Chapter 11, spinning a lie a bit too convincing: "consider that I am the one feeling seduced." And, of course, we spend a lot of time getting invested in the relationship with Severus, but we do know what happens to him at the end of the series... right?
> 
> Overall this is a story about how The World is Not A Nice Place, but maybe, just maybe, love and music can save our souls.

# Prologue: The Curse of Lost Prosperity

The Maiden Persephone was bound to her new husband in the Underworld, where no new life could form. Though hardly more than a child herself, she felt keenly the loss of her ability to bear one. The Earth Mother Demeter was only able to make her fertile in the precious short season they had together, away from Hades.

When Aphrodite suggested borrowing one of her own Consorts, the Maiden declined, unwilling to stray from her husband. But Demeter schemed with Aphrodite, spinning a tale of Persephone's secret pining for Ares. Upon hearing these lies, Ares decided he would not seduce the Maiden, but instead he went to the Underworld to report to Persephone and Hades directly.

In their rage, they cursed the Daughters of Aphrodite:

"You will beget powerful maidens with men unworthy. Each will live as a goddess with beauty and riches and love, but if a favored Consort betrays her, she will lose everything, and suffer in equal measure of her prior pleasure, before she becomes lost herself."

The following argument between Demeter and Aphrodite could be heard throughout the sky, day and night. Zeus was distracted from his own lusty pursuits, and resolved to seduce the Maiden himself, for surely the seed of mighty Zeus could break the Barren Curse of the Underworld, negating Persephone's Curse as well. Hades tried to shield his lovely bride, but Zeus was too strong, and Persephone nearly gave in, to give everyone peace, when finally she was inspired to find the answer to her own peace.

She called upon Harpocrates, who Silenced them all.

# Early Timeline

Nov 6, 1978 -- Persephone Lysandra Althea born to Siladora Demeter Avery Althea and Markus Althea  
Jan 1, 1984 -- Sila bails  
Oct 1, 1989 -- Sila returns  
Sep 1, 1990 -- Liz Sorted into Slytherin

Winter 1990 -- Cameroon -- Aicha & Spider Shaman  
Summer 1991 -- Siberia -- Nomad Healer 

Winter 1991 -- South America -- failed to meet Socorro  
Summer 1992 -- American Midwest -- Mama Bear the Weaver of Dreams

Winter 1992 -- Egypt -- Library at Alexandria  
Summer 1993 -- Ethiopia & Japan -- Moon Priestess & Kochi

Winter 1993 -- Central America  
Summer 1994 -- Greece -- Suloos -- Tattoos: Asklepian Staff, Snakes Armband, Elemental Circle

Winter 1994 -- Philippines -- Tattoos: Ankle Coil Snake and Kanzashi Hair Clip  
Summer 1995 -- France - Tattoo: Parisian Healer's Seal

Winter 1995 -- Germany -- Tattoo: Two Tiny Snakes Tramp Stamp  
Summer 1996 -- London -- Tattoo: St. Mungo's Emergency Seal

# Girl Like That P1Ch1 Playlist

  * Title track: "No Rain" by Blind Melon 1992
  * "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles 1969
  * The latest Red Hot Chili Peppers CD would have been _Mother's Milk_ 1989
  * _she played blues and funk guitar tunes all night_
  * _Aicha's song. It flowed like honeyed milk around her_
  * "Jane Says" by Jane's Addiction 1987



Chapter 1 Playlist: [ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74m9KeAQ7GVpmcaifqlFI8 ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74m9KeAQ7GVpmcaifqlFI8)

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

# Chapter 1: So Stay With Me And I'll Have It Made

Lizzy was 5 years old when Sila Althea abandoned her and her father.

Markus Althea was furious. He knew she had been unhappy and acting very strangely in general, but he did not expect her to leave. He searched, but he could not find where his wife had run. As a muggle-born, he had no influential friends at the Ministry, and the black market was both dangerous and unaffordable. His own mediocre tracking charms gave no clues, so she had certainly done something to protect her location.

Sila's family had disowned her for marrying a muggle-born wizard. They weren't likely to help.

Oh well. She was a cheating slut anyway. He could live without her. Little Lizzy, he wasn't so sure. She was such a quiet child. She had learned quickly how to keep her head down, stay out of trouble, and chose her battles. He was very impressed with his young daughter. Maybe, if Sila stayed away, he could help Little Lizzy hone those skills and develop others that would help her get ahead in life. Maybe, with Sila out of the way, he could let go of his jealousy and focus on being a good dad.

On the other hand, the girl was always singing and playing guitar. Sila's acoustic guitar. Songs that Sila taught her. Oh, it was irritating. He bit his tongue, however, when she started coming home from primary school each day and heading straight to The Raven Witch to play.

The Raven Witch was his pub, and by the time Lizzy was 7 years old, her tip jar overflowed every day with both wizard and muggle currency. She never brought any friends to see her perform, and that was mildly concerning, but Markus' greed got the better of him, and he let go of the notion that Lizzy should develop friendships with other children. If she had connected with his customers in a way that inspired them to hand over extra money, then, that would have to be enough. His sweet little girl simply handed him the jar every night before she went home to bed. 

After just a few months of this routine, one of Markus' regulars lost her job at St. Mungo's. Anallah "Annie" Foremann had been a gifted healer, but her research into muggle methods had caused a bit too much of a stir. She had saved enough to cover tuition at a muggle nursing school, but she was a bit short for living expenses. Markus empathized, and allowed Annie to sell her massage therapy services in the extra room above the pub for a few days.

He didn't notice Lizzy's interest in Annie until the next day, when he realized that he hadn't heard a single note played. Her tip jar still had money in it, and he was puzzled until he found her upstairs. Annie was teaching Lizzy the art of a great massage, and Lizzy was already generating tips from it, much bigger tips than she received for her tunes. In fact, with Lizzy's help, Annie spent a grand total of fourteen days collecting enough cash to get her through her first term at school.

Those days Markus went without Lizzy's music tips had been totally worth it. From then on, each day Lizzy would give massages until there were no more takers, and then play her music. One morning Markus took Lizzy to Gringotts to open her own personal vault. Every two weeks he would return to Gringotts' deposit counter with two bags of gold and cash. Lizzy's music tips would go into her account. The massage tips and booze profits would go into his. By the time Lizzy was of age, he would have enough to retire, and she would be financially comfortable in whatever path she chose.

He couldn't have asked for a better life, for both him and his daughter. They spent a few years in this comfortable routine. And then, about a month before Lizzy turned 11, Sila waltzed back into their lives.

\------------------------------

Sila slipped quietly into The Raven Witch and took a seat at a corner table far from the bar, but close to the stage. Markus looked up but apparently didn't recognize her. He merely continued a conversation he was having with an attractive redheaded witch at the bar.

Sila looked around. It was pretty much just as she remembered, except for the stage. They rarely had music at the pub when she'd been around...

Oh. Finally, she recognized her daughter, easily mastering _Here Comes the Sun_ on _her_ acoustic guitar.

A surge of pride flowed through Sila as she examined Lizzy. She was so grown-up. Almost eleven years old now, Lizzy's long black hair brushed her closed eyes as she hummed and strummed, clearly lost in the song. Her magical power practically radiated, amplified by the vibrations of the music. Or maybe it was the other way around. Her good mood permeated the place, and the way the music moved her was reflected in the many people who listened. Sila thought, once Lizzy was trained, she would certainly be a force to reckon.

Unfortunately Sila's special training plan for Lizzy would have to wait until after she started at Hogwarts. If there was one thing she learned in her years around the world, it was that children could be ruined if they started too early.

Sila was still musing when the song ended. She got up and retrieved a coin from her pocket as she approached the stage. She took her time dropping it in Lizzy's tip jar, trying to catch her eye.

Lizzy hadn't even finished saying "Thank you" when her eyes went wide and she blinked a few times, as if she couldn't believe what she saw. But then she frowned and glanced at the bar. Sila understood the gesture. She smiled warmly and turned and walked away, right out the door. But she didn't go any farther. If her daughter was even a little intelligent, Sila would see her in just a moment. So she stood outside, waiting.

Sure enough, Lizzy emerged shortly, sipping on a yellow-colored beverage. Holding it out, she asked, "Lemonade? I would have gotten two, but daddy would have been suspicious, and I'm not afraid of cooties."

Sila laughed. "No, thank you." 

"You should know, mum, that daddy was _very_ angry when you left."

"And now?" She knew it was unfair to ask Lizzy this question. If she wanted to know she should approach Markus and find out. But it was far too tempting.

Lizzy sighed and took another sip, apparently stalling. "I don't know. We just, well, we just don't talk about you anymore. I know he's had a few shags since --" Sila started, unsure what to think of Lizzy's casual language about her dad's sex life, but Lizzy barreled on. "-- and generally we've had a pretty good life, all things considered. Whenever I thought about you I'd practice with your guitar." Suddenly she smiled brightly. "Oh, mum, I've also learned bass and drums and piano!"

"That's wonderful."

Lizzy moved a bit closer and lowered her voice. "Mum, I've already told daddy. I should tell you too. I want to be a rock star when I grow up."

\------------------------------

Lizzy didn't know what happened when Sila finally approached Markus. She had gone to bed at home. But she could guess at how they would row. Daddy had a temper, and mum had sass to match.

The next day, Lizzy left for school before daddy was awake, as usual, and he was gone to the pub when she got back, as usual. But mum was there, and though she was clearly antsy to get reacquainted with Lizzy, she respected Lizzy's request for quiet time to think about her schoolwork before she forgot any of her day's lessons. 

After Lizzy completed her maths homework, she took her mum to the den and showed off her most treasured possession -- her computer. "You are going to love the Internet," Lizzy said with feeling. She pulled up her list of peer-to-peer music downloads, about 40 tracks. "These are just my current downloads. Check out my collection." And next she explored her music folder, about 5000 tracks in all. "And that's not even the best part. I can play them directly from the computer, or I can burn a CD, and play them wherever there's a CD player. Here, I'll burn you a copy of my new favorite."

As they waited for the burn process at state-of-the art 8x speed, Lizzy showed her mum some of her favorite websites. "This is really quite fascinating," Sila said. "But, dearest, I've seen the price tags on these things. And on drum kits. You have a lot of very expensive toys. The Raven Witch was never exactly a cash cow..."

"Oh. You're asking how daddy and I can afford all our nice things."

"Well, yes."

"Daddy still tends the bar, but I get good tips singing and playing. I get even better tips with my massages. An ex-healer from St. Mungo's taught me how to get people to relax enough to empty their wallets."

Sila laughed.

"Daddy makes the deposits at Gringotts. I know he's taking a huge cut, but I don't really need all that gold. He buys me most of these toys anyway."

"Guilty?"

"Oh yes."

Lizzy was delighted with her mother's approval of both her work and her music. Sila slipped right into Lizzy's daily routine. She became a presence at home almost as constant as her father's at the pub. Sila was always awake and making breakfast for Lizzy by the time Lizzy emerged from her room. She was waiting for Lizzy after school. And, after a few spectacular rows, Markus allowed them to play together on stage at The Raven Witch.

Usually Lizzy turned up her music to tune out the fighting at home. One time, she was too slow, and she heard the way daddy rejected mum's sexual advance. She heard him call her filth. She heard him rage about the many betrayals over the years. And then she heard him say that the only reason he wanted her in his house at all is that she came with a house elf. She heard him say that the only reason he wanted her at the pub was the way she generated tips as a waitress with her skimpy fashion.

Lizzy looked down at her own outfit that day, a sleeveless sheaf of a dress, and she wondered if daddy would have called _her_ a floozy, too. With a heavy heart, she went to her closet and chose a cardigan to cover her shoulders. From then on she paid extra attention to her clothes, deliberately layering for comfort and coverage.

She also started to notice the way men would look at her, comparing that to how they looked at mum. Most of the patrons of The Raven Witch were there for the camaraderie, the entertainment, and the booze. But some of them looked at the women. Some of them looked at Lizzy, and she started to understand the looks of objectification. 

She had seen men get erections on her massage table. It was a fairly normal biological response, and most were utterly embarrassed by it. Annie Foremann had taught her to be gracious about it. But now she started to wonder if maybe she needed to protect herself from arseholes like her own father, or worse. She asked mum for some help, and together they chose a ward for the backroom massage parlor with a subtle calming effect. Sila also scrounged up a few protection charms and talismans so that Lizzy could be safely alone with strangers in that room.

And life went on.

Then, on a bright Monday morning in the summer of 1990, Lizzy got her Hogwarts letter.

\------------------------------

Sila was giving Lizzy tips for her first year at Hogwarts as they navigated a very busy Diagon Alley, on an August trip to select school supplies.

"Now, one of the first things you'll have to deal with is your name. You'll have to introduce yourself as Lizzy, and when your teachers call your name on roll, say, I prefer Lizzy, if you please. You may even have to explain that your middle name is Lysandra and that's the one we shortened, since many of the teachers won't use a nickname they don't understand, in case it is not appropriate. In fact, it's very likely that most of them will call you Miss Althea anyway. Oh but don't correct them when they call your name for the Sorting. You're expected to say nothing until you are seated with your House. This will unfortunately make it harder to correct everyone later."

Lizzy just nodded as Siladora Demeter Avery Althea continued.

"The castle itself has a rather quirky personality. Memorize every turn you make, but don't be surprised if walls, doors, staircases, or whole corridors move. Be friendly and respectful to the ghosts, and most of them will help you if you get lost. They know the castle very well, or at least the parts they frequent. Aha, Ollivanders!"

A wand. Lizzy's heart fluttered. Over the years she had used her daddy's wand for a number of things to make life easier -- cleaning and cooking, mostly, before Sila returned with a house elf in tow. But to shortly have her own wand was terribly exciting.

Ollivander was exactly as mum had described yesterday, when she announced this little trip. As she left the shop with a unicorn tail hair wrapped in eleven inches of reed, she met one of her classmates, Riley Noam. He had come alone, and Lizzy instantly connected with that independent spirit. What a successful shopping experience!

Before she knew it, Lizzy was on the Hogwarts Express, trying to find a familiar face. After checking five compartments, three of which were full but two of which were empty, she spotted Mr. Noam in one alone, lying down on one seat, reading a novel. She tapped on the compartment door and let herself in. "It was Riley, right?"

He looked up and smiled. "Yes. And you're Lizzy. Please sit down." He marked his page and sat upright. Their conversation started with the usual where are you from (the southern English village of Orrisit) and what do your parents do (fashion designer and tailor) before proceeding to more interesting topics. Riley was a pureblood wizard with impeccable manners, but he read novels about bloody revolution and political intrigue. Lizzy didn't care much for the twisted world of politics, but was perfectly happy to listen to Riley talk about freedom and its costs, before she rambled a while about her passion for rock and roll music, and its role in social change.

They talked a lot about Hogwarts, noting how few first years seemed to be on the train. "I have a theory," Riley said, "that is kind of depressing, actually. We were born in the last couple years of the war. I think a lot of people were reluctant to make babies in such uncertain times."

Their low count of fellow students was confirmed at the Sorting.

The Hat's song seemed clear enough, if a little campy, and Professor McGonagall turned to the first years and elaborated only a little. "When I call your name, sit on the stool. The Hat will announce your House, and you may join your Housemates at your House's table." Instructions finished, she glanced at a scroll of parchment for the first name. "Althea, Persephone!"

So Lizzy was to be first. When the Hat touched her head, she thought she heard it whisper, "Ah, you are a very special girl, Persephone."

 _It's Lizzy_ , she thought automatically.

"Ha ha! Very good. And your talents are wide-ranging. You'd be a credit to any of the Houses."

Lizzy thought of her music. _Where should I take my tunes?_

"That depends. Do you want them to be best accepted by your peers, or do you want to be where they are most needed?"

It was an interesting question, and one Lizzy had to consider. Finally, she thought with conviction, _Needed_.

"The talent itself could have put you in Ravenclaw. The compassion of your choice would be ideal for Hufflepuff. The bravery to make it is a throwback to Gryffindor himself. But, child, if you are truly willing to put everyone else above yourself, then it must be --

\-- SLYTHERIN!"

She followed the loudest applause to the Slytherin table, a little too dazed to notice the very limited polite clapping from the others. She was a Slytherin, labeled as ambitious and cunning. Ambitious was a no-brainer. She wanted to move people with music. It was no small task, but she wanted it anyway. Cunning, on the other hand, Lizzy would have to work on, to really play the part, in order to accomplish whatever good the Sorting Hat had in mind. She mused on her situation as half of the remaining students were sorted, but then Lizzy realized, rather suddenly, that one boy had joined Slytherin, and no other girls. By the end of the Sorting ceremony, Lizzy Althea, Davis Garter, Kellan Rickard, and Faranor Yaxley were the only first years at the Slytherin table.

Lizzy wasn't sure what to make of it. An average of four boys and four girls joined the other Houses. Riley was a Hufflepuff. Lizzy ate her meal in silence, listening to other students at the table.

It wasn't until the feast was cleared away and she realized her next destination was the Slytherin common room that she realized, this was it. Life at Hogwarts was truly about to begin.

\------------------------------

Lizzy had a rather large dorm all to herself. Not ready to go to bed, Lizzy went to her trunks. One, plastered with band stickers, she merely patted affectionately before opening the other, which was brand new and lacking decoration. It was full of the typical items students were expected to bring: clothes, books, other supplies...

Only when the first was empty did she open the other. It was well-padded and well-organized, containing her instruments, mini-amp, stacks of tablature, and accessories, most of which had been shrunk for easy transport. Mum warned her that electricity wouldn't work at Hogwarts, but Lizzy was hopeful that she'd find a way to get the desired sounds. For now, she selected her acoustic six-string (she got her own, since mum did not want to part with hers for the school year), waved her wand to restore its size, and sat down on her bed to practice a bit before the night's end.

For breakfast the next morning, Lizzy took the same place she'd had at the feast and resigned herself to quiet meals. But then, a few minutes later, an older girl sat next to her, one of the prefects. "Good morning, Persephone. I'm Ruby Bandinel."

"It's Lizzy, if you please." She flashed a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"Were you the one playing music last night? My sister Rayna is a second-year in the dorm next to you, and she could hear it outside your door. By the time I got there it was over, but I had to scatter the second years."

Lizzy laughed. "Well, yes. Normally I rock pretty loud, but I rather didn't want to bother anyone that late. I hope I didn't keep anyone up."

"I see. Well, silencing charms can be applied to doors and rooms, and Flitwick covers them pretty early in the first year schedule. In fact, you might want to talk to him about music. He leads the chorus, and you can start taking a music elective in third year. He could probably introduce you to other students who like music."

"Thanks," Lizzy said, in between nibbles of toast.

For the rest of breakfast, Ruby chatted happily about the different professors, pointing them out at the High Table. She described what Lizzy could expect from most of them. Dumbledore, Snape, Trelawney, and Vector were not present, so she skipped them, and she never took Muggle Studies, so she didn't know what to say about Burbage.

Lizzy was only half-listening anyway. It was a Sunday, and she wasn't sure what she would do with her day. Fortunately, as she left the Great Hall, Riley caught up to her. "Hi, Lizzy. A bunch of us are going to go to the quidditch pitch to watch the team hopefuls. I guess it's a great day to practice before tryouts. Want to come?"

Lizzy was only vaguely aware of quidditch from the sports talk at the pub, but the whole school seemed to be pouring out the front door, so she agreed. Luckily, one of the Hufflepuff girls was bold enough to simply ask how the game works, and Lizzy listened in while Riley and the other boys explained.

Flying was fascinating to watch. For a while. She rather enjoyed the first hour, but as the second dragged on, Lizzy longed to explore the castle they had left behind. She tapped Riley's shoulder to get his attention. "I'm heading back. Let me know what I miss, all right?"

"Sure thing."

Lizzy kept her eyes wide, soaking in the views of the grounds on her way back to the castle. This place was amazing, and she was looking forward to living here for the next seven years. She almost detoured to the lake, but she kept walking, went through the castle door, and sought the library.

When she found it, her heart fluttered and her mouth went dry. If just a tiny fraction of these tomes were about music, she knew where she'd be spending time between classes.

She started developing a reading list for herself with the many texts about sound and music. However, the books available on combining electricity and magic seemed rather bland and generic, until Lizzy discovered the restricted section. Her answers must lie within. But to get access, she needed permission.

It was easy to locate Professor Flitwick's classroom. And, bonus, he was there. Lizzy knocked on the open classroom door and found herself invited inside.

"I was just preparing the classroom," the tiny professor squeaked, "strengthening the protective wards and such. What brings you here?"

"I was told that you're the man to talk to about music."

Flitwick smiled warmly. "I do enjoy all kinds of music, though I'm certainly not up to date on what's popular with the young people. When I was a little older than you I played a number of horns."

"Any blues or jazz? I'm a rock and roll girl, myself, and I dig my blues-y roots."

"That's nice, but no, not much and not in many years. Do you play?"

Lizzy nodded. "Oh yes. Piano, drums, guitar. I also sing. I want to find a way to get the right sound out of my electric guitar, here at Hogwarts. My research today at the library wasn't much to go on, but I won't give up yet."

"That's a pretty tall order. Many have tried since its invention, but none have succeeded in making electricity work here."

"Well, I'm not so sure that's the right way, in this case. I've been looking up charms for language and pitch and volume rather than electrons and circuits."

A glance of approval from Flitwick gave Lizzy courage to say what had to come next.

"But, I don't think I should abandon electricity completely. Not every place in the world is dripping in magic. What's so frustrating about researching electricity and magic is that so many of the books are in the restricted section. I understand it can be dangerous to combine the two, but I'd still like to just read about it."

It took him a moment as he finished another protective spell on the room, but finally he seemed to realize what she was saying. "Oh. Well. In that case, dear, let's see how well you do in my class. If your work is close to perfect, then maybe by Halloween I'll declare you ready to have a look at those books."

Lizzy gave him the brightest smile she could muster. "Thank you, professor."

And so Lizzy spent the rest of her first term at Hogwarts excelling at charms and keeping up acceptable marks in her other courses, so as to give Flitwick no excuse to deny her request. Lizzy would do whatever it took to become a rock star at Hogwarts.

\------------------------------

Lizzy's twelfth birthday was on the sixth day of November in the year 1990. On that day she received a package from her mother. The note was cryptic, using too many words to say that Sila was really looking forward to traveling over the winter holidays with Lizzy. The package contained a very light batik dress with a floral motif.

After that Sila was silent on the topic until the very day Lizzy came home. She was allowed the first night back to have a small performance at The Raven Witch (she played blues and funk guitar tunes all night) before Sila whisked Lizzy away on a plane headed south.

They traveled by plane, bus, and finally by foot, and Lizzy recognized with some dismay Sila's use of magical influence to get them across muggle borders. But she did not know exactly which borders. As they stepped carefully through a rainforest, Lizzy got sick of waiting.

"Mum. Really. I want to know where we are. You've taken me too far to think of turning back without you, and it is getting difficult to trust you."

This stopped Sila in her tracks. She sat down on a rotting log and took a long sip from a canteen before passing it to Lizzy. As Lizzy drank, Sila said, "You are right, of course. But you are also very bright. You at least know what continent we are on."

Lizzy sighed, but if mum would give her answers for playing along, then she would. "Africa."

Sila smiled brightly. "Yes my dear. We are in the heart of Cameroon. In another hour we should be approaching a village I have visited once before."

"Oh good, then we are almost there." She glared at her mother.

"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I had to be sure we were not tracked, and it would be unwise to simply appear in this village."

Lizzy frowned. "Is there something dangerous waiting to greet us?"

"Not at all, not at all."

She didn't quite believe her.

"There are experts who live in this village. Experts who can teach you."

Lizzy was getting very suspicious now. "Teach me what?"

Sila stood, and beckoned Liz to continue with her. Once moving, she finally said, "Rare and wonderful magicks. They told me I was already too old, that these skills are best learnt at the beginning of adolescence. They will be very happy to have such an ideal pupil."

And Sila refused to say any more.

When they finally arrived, they were first spotted by a woman on a dirt path. This woman dropped her chore basket and ran toward Sila. They embraced like old friends, and spoke to each other in rapid French. Lizzy waited as patiently as she could but finally cleared her throat.

Sila had the decency to look embarrassed. To the other woman, she said, "Ma fille, Lizzy," and to Lizzy she said, "My old friend, Aicha."

Lizzy smiled at Aicha, but before she could say anything there was a shout from another village-dweller.

Suddenly Lizzy found herself and her mother surrounded by a dozen men, Aicha pushed aside. They were shouting in French and another language Lizzy did not recognize.

Sila calmed them down by making wide gestures and speaking in a serious but steady tone. Lizzy felt miffed that her mother had not warned her to study her French before this holiday trip.

The eldest man in the crowd, wrinkled and gray, came forward and made some kind of formal greeting to Sila and Lizzy. Then he took Lizzy's chin in his hand and examined her face. After a moment his grip tightened and he frowned, posing a question to Sila in the unrecognized language. Another member of the group, a much younger man, translated to French.

As Sila spluttered, clearly not expecting the question, the old man's grip changed from Lizzy's face to her right hand. Lizzy was truly afraid now, but the old man looked at her with kind blue eyes, and she did not fidget as he squeezed her hand and closed his eyes.

His face turned very serious, and there was a strange fire in his eyes when he opened them again. He held up Lizzy's hand, which he still gripped tightly, and gestured with it toward Sila. He asked his question again, and Sila held a hand up to the translator. She had finally gained control of herself and knew it was the same question. She responded with a short sentence, and it was clear to Lizzy that her mother was playing dumb about something.

The old man started shouting at Sila, gripping and shaking Lizzy's hand so hard that Lizzy herself trembled.

"Mum?"

When Lizzy spoke, the old man seemed to remember that there was in fact a little girl attached to the appendage he was shaking, and he let go of her hand. He called for Aicha, and apparently instructed her to take Lizzy away. Aicha took Lizzy's right hand this time, and after giving her a strange look, led her away.

Lizzy started to struggle, but she heard her mother say, "Lizzy it's all right. He wants to talk to me. I will be with you again very soon."

Feeling betrayed and alone, Lizzy went along with Aicha along the dirt path and into a grass hut, which sat among a dozen similar huts.

Aicha was a gracious hostess, offering Lizzy cushions and food, and singing to her in soft melodies. Lizzy refused the comforts but found herself intrigued by Aicha's song. It flowed like honeyed milk around her, relaxing her, and Lizzy was only vaguely suspicious of there being a spell woven into the music.

It was over an hour later, and the sky was dark, when Sila entered the hut. She accepted a large cushion from Aicha and sat with it next to Lizzy, who was still cross-legged on a woven floor-mat which covered the hard ground. Aicha, seeming to know better than to try to ask, simply placed an extra cushion next to Lizzy and promptly left the hut.

Sila smiled at Lizzy. "Aicha always knows just what I need."

Lizzy glared.

"I know, I know. I owe you some explanations."

Lizzy rolled her eyes.

"Let me start by saying no one is angry at you. I made a little mistake but I think I've cleared it all up."

Lizzy crossed her arms.

Sila sighed. "The silent treatment, then?"

Lizzy pursed her lips and gazed pointedly at the roof of the hut.

"Right. You'll speak when it's worth talking to me again. I get it." Sila fiddled with her own raven black hair and then pulled it out of the tie that held it up. Lizzy could tell she was thinking about what to say.

After almost a minute, Sila finally said, "You will not be trained in the way I expected."

Lizzy wanted to ask what way she expected, but she was too angry, and she was more concerned with the way things were now. She remained quiet, but allowed eye contact again.

Sila smiled, so Lizzy just closed her eyes. Mum should not be pleased with herself at all. She could just imagine the twisted look on her mum's face at this reaction.

Lizzy could hear the roughness in her voice as Sila continued, "It seems they believe you will make a great healer, and it should all be focused through your hands rather than your wand. That's how they operate here. None of them have wands, or if they do those wands are very primitive. They usually work with spoken spells anchored to talismans, or the body itself."

Lizzy looked her mum in the eyes again, and this time Sila had the sense to remain serious.

"The Great Elder was upset when he saw the calluses on your fingers. He says you will destroy your hand-healing abilities if you continue to work your hands on stringed instruments."

At this Lizzy got to her feet and paced as well as she could inside the hut.

"I know how much you love your music Lizzy, and you can still play other instruments and sing. In fact, they will teach you amazing healing songs. But while you are here you should try to protect your hands so that you can use them to the best of your ability while training."

Lizzy stopped pacing. "We are only here for the winter holiday." It was not a question.

"Right. We may have to come back during the summer holiday, but I will not allow you to miss any time at Hogwarts." Sila sighed again. "Lizzy, I'm sorry I was not more forward with you. Now that I know this will be your training, I wish I had prepared you better. I wanted it to be a surprise, and they were supposed to treat you like a princess, but they insist you will better serve the world by developing your healing."

This time Lizzy sighed. "Mum, someday you will have to admit what you are not telling me, but I am too angry and tired. Where should I sleep?"

Lizzy and Sila stayed with Aicha. Through the rest of the holiday, Lizzy learned the secrets of their tribal healing magicks. They taught her to sing healing songs, make potent preventative and curative brews, and to use the energy of her own soul to mend injuries with her bare hands. Actually examining the souls of her patients was a touch frightening, so she learned to focus on the physical target of her soul magic. 

Aicha gave Lizzy a crash course in anatomy and general first aid. The Spider Shaman (no one in the community knew his real name, but everyone seemed to trust him completely) oversaw the tutors of magical healing arts. He personally taught Lizzy to weave various magical materials into powerful bandages and other healing devices. 

They needed these bandages on Christmas Day, when Lizzy thought she would have a break, but a villager had been attacked by a lion while out foraging. It was by far the most disturbing thing Lizzy had ever seen, but Aicha helped her understand the powerful _goodness_ of what her healing hands and magic-woven bandages had done to mend that gnarly mangling. 

Then, on the day before Lizzy and Sila were to return home, the Spider Shaman took Lizzy into his own private quarters for one last ritual.

When he turned to face her, Lizzy dutifully bowed and exposed her neck to him, but he lifted her chin to look her squarely in the eyes, and he entered her mind. It was sudden, it was violent, and in a matter of seconds it seemed he had rifled through her most painful memories of her mother's abandonment and her father's rage.

When he released her chin, Lizzy fell to her knees with tears in her eyes.

The Spider Shaman then asked her, in stilted French, if she would like protection from mind-reading.

She heartily accepted. 

It was amazing, staring into his eyes while he chanted through the same weaving songs that he had taught her to make bandages and stitch up wounds. He was dancing to the rhythm of it in her mind, weaving web traps, filling the space between with swirling mists, mists that he seemed to pull from deep within her own subconscious. There were depths to her own mind which she did not even know she had, and he taught her just enough to control the top layers of the webs and mists. 

When the traps were set and the mists swirling in a deceptively soothing manner, the ritual was complete, and the Spider Shaman, the Trap Weaver, warned her not to stray too deep into herself. A person could literally fall into these mind traps, disconnecting from their body and breaking their link to the real world. He taught her a few simple methods to escape the top layers, but beyond those layers was madness.

When Lizzy went back to school, she did not tell anyone about anything that happened. Not her friends Riley and Rayna. Not her favorite teacher, Flitwick, or her Head of House, Snape. Not even Madam Pomfrey, the only other healer she actually knew resided in the castle. Instead, she lied through her teeth, insisting that she spent a relaxing holiday in her pyjamas, practicing her music.

Sila wasn't telling Markus the truth, either. Lizzy wasn't sure what the excuses were, exactly, and she rather preferred to avoid eavesdropping on her parents when they fought. She'd heard just enough of one row about Sila making up for lost time after Markus had Lizzy all to himself, and that was enough to make Lizzy turn up her music to block it all out.

\------------------------------

The following summer, they knew they would need a better story. The reality was a tour of the most remote and poor regions of Siberia, where the International Statute of Secrecy went essentially unenforced due to the vast area of sparse population. Lizzy and Sila joined up with a traveling healer who agreed to teach Lizzy in exchange for funding and potions. It was heartbreaking work, and at the age of 12, Lizzy started feeling old. She saw enough death and suffering to last a lifetime, and she knew damn well that there was more. Much more. Sila must have been able to read the nonverbal cues and behavioral changes in her quiet child, because she started planning regular breaks for rest and real tourism. They did just enough sight-seeing in major cities so that it was easy enough to tell her friends later that she traveled to perform at every open mic night in the numerous dive bars that allowed her British and American rock music.

The next winter really was a sight-seeing adventure. After taking a portkey to the Falkland Islands, Lizzy and Sila spent the entire holiday apparating up the west coast of the South American continent, looking for the renowned Healer Antonio Socorro, and always coming up short. Every little magical community would sing the praises of this elusive True Healer, but their information on his whereabouts was always out-of-date. This was the first holiday from Hogwarts that Lizzy actually managed to enjoy a little bit, despite Sila's frustration, and another nasty healing job on Christmas Day, when a known drunkard of the current village had waited until Socorro was gone to beat the shit out of his wife. Lizzy had felt so free, coming in on Christmas Eve and _not_ being the celebrated healer, but she should have known it was too good to last. Lizzy had to clean up this one, and she had to accept accolades for saving a woman who should not have needed saving.

The dissembling back at school became much easier after that. She was honing her Slytherin cunning, always speaking as close to the truth as possible without revealing her secrets. The Spider Shaman's invasion of her mind and subsequent protections made her uneasy, and she did not want to give anyone any reason to go digging and fling them both into madness.

After Lizzy's second year, Sila agreed that this approach to the truth was for the best. Lizzy's second year was Harry Potter's first. When she came home every year with stories of Potter's deeds and the creeping suspicions of renewed dark times, Sila grew more and more protective of Lizzy's secret healing powers.

Lizzy and Sila continued to travel the world seeking experts in healing magic, and whenever Lizzy came back to school, she would not lie about where she'd been, but she did not dare to tell anyone what she had done and what she had learned. At school she could go back to her music and pretend like it was a different world all together. She might have honed her cunning on the secrecy of her holiday activities, but she honed her ambition on the continued passion for music.

By the end of her third year, Lizzy had created spells which would set timing and play instruments, so she did not need the other students to play in a band (Riley had tried, and he was a decent singer, but could not seem to keep time, and he quickly gave up). During the holiday breaks, there was no time for practicing with a band anyway. At most, she might get a few days to spend at the pub, playing for the regulars who always packed in from miles around when Liz was home.

It was the summer of 1993, when Lizzy was fourteen, that Sila introduced her to the Moon Priestess of Ethiopia. In between side-along apparitions, Sila prepared Lizzy for the moment. They practiced a formal greeting with the grasping of hands, and Sila said, "Last winter you learned to read soul-auras, and you should not recoil when you touch the Priestess, even if her aura is twisted. You would not want to insult her that way."

"Twisted?"

Sila shrugged and drank deeply from a canteen, the only thing she had packed for their journey. Then she replied, "Everyone has both light and dark inside them, and the Moon Priestess is well-practiced at straddling the Grey Line of Intent. From her, you will learn to tap every source of your own power, without succumbing to any darkness."

Lizzy was quiet as she considered this, and there wasn't much time to think it over and respond. 

In a matter of minutes, they had finished the last two legs of Sila's apparition path, and dusk was falling, the sun setting behind a distant mountain range, as they approached the impossibly large fabric tent of the Moon Priestess' coven. Sila explained, "The people follow the herds that provide their food. There are a few more permanent villages nearby, mostly muggles, while the strongest witches and wizards all serve the Priestess. Over there, along the ravine," Sila gestured broadly in the gathering darkness, "is the only road within a day's walk."

Two very burly men were posted as guards outside the tent, but they seemed to know Sila, and allowed them through, leading them past the tables with dozens of people at their dinner, and Lizzy was sure that the blush on her pale skin was a novelty, the way they all stared.

Finally, they were presented to the Priestess. Lizzy tried to keep her eyes down in respect, but she was curious. This woman had caramel-bronze skin, pale-grey robes, and a luminescent crescent moon decoration in her thick, dark hair. Her aura wasn't exactly _twisted_ , but it was like a swirling mist of white and grey that reminded Lizzy of the Mists of Mind protecting her own head.

"So," the Priestess said, in a velvet whisper, as ephemeral as the clouds that might drift across a night sky, "This is the Hand Healer."

"Yes, Priestess," Lizzy said, ducking her head.

"Look up, child, and let me see your eyes."

She did as she was told, but she felt the tell-tale tingles of subtle legilimency at the edges of her thoughts, and she closed her eyes abruptly. "Please, don't. I have no wish to go mad."

"My apologies, Healer Althea, for I was not informed that your mind was protected by a Weaver."

Lizzy's eyes sprang open, and she drank in the sight of the Priestess glaring at her mother. "No harm done," she said quickly. "I wanted this protection, and mum didn't know. It seemed like a good idea at the time."

The Moon Priestess gave Lizzy a small, serene, little smile, and then tilted her head. The crescent moon headdress glimmered in the dim light. "Tell me, child, what you know of healing potions."

Taking a deep breath, Lizzy gave it half a moment's thought and said, "My potions professor at Hogwarts is brilliant but harsh. In his class, I earn adequate marks and the merciful blessing of his apathy. Any other professor might be impressed. In addition to his lessons, I have learned a hodge-podge variety of brews from my holiday tutors."

"Then our first session will be a test of this knowledge and skill. Tomorrow at this time, return to this chamber, and we will take a tour of the local flora, and its applications in healing potions."

Ducking her head again, Lizzy said, "Thank you, Priestess."

One of the Sisters of the coven was assigned to play hostess, setting up Sila and Lizzy with their assigned cots, and inviting them to sup with the others. Lizzy found herself seated next to a girl her own age, a squib named Semaki. Lizzy's translation charm was not very good, not least with the several different languages spoken around her, but she spent the duration of the meal learning basic terms in the local language from Semaki. The girl had a lean frame but a wide smile, and her good mood helped Liz adjust to the new place.

The next day, Sila took Lizzy down the road, to a clinic between the three villages. This, she learned, was the primary destination of the Moon Priestess' healing brews. The head matron of the clinic was a stern woman, always dressed in severe black clothes despite the equatorial heat, and she was quick to assign Lizzy duty hours every morning from sun-up to high noon.

It wasn't long before Lizzy was _very_ tired, staying up most of the nights with the Moon Priestess and working morning shifts at the clinic. She hardly even saw her mother, who fell in deeper with the celestial cult and spent many two-night stints in the most remote and rough camping conditions. 

Semaki began coming earlier for the meal, so that she and Lizzy could get an hour to play before dusk. They drew pictures for jumping games in the dirt, and Lizzy conjured ribbons so they could play with their hair, and they danced to the tunes in the three little music boxes Lizzy had managed to pocket before leaving London.

_From "Jane Says" by Jane's Addiction_

_Jane says, "I'm done with Sergio!  
_ _He treat me like a ragdoll"  
_ _She hides the television  
_ _Says, "I don't owe him nothing,  
_ _but if he comes back again,  
_ _Tell him to wait right here for me, or,  
_ _Try again tomorrow!_

 _I'm gonna kick tomorrow,  
_ _I'm gonna kick tomorrow"_

 _Jane says, "Have you seen my wig around?  
_ _I feel naked without it"  
_ _She knows they all want her to go  
_ _That's okay man she don't like them anyway  
_ _Jane says, "I'm going away to Spain  
_ _When I get my money saved  
_ _I'm gonna start tomorrow_

 _I'm gonna kick tomorrow,  
_ _I'm gonna kick tomorrow"_

 _She gets mad and she starts to cry  
_ She takes a swing but she can't hit!  
_She don't mean to harm  
_She just don't know what else to do about it

Lizzy learned quickly that Semaki was nothing like Jane. Semaki was grateful and empathetic, even for those who were neglectful or cruel to her. Semaki never pushed off a plan for the future, but always made the most of each day as it came. Her parents were magical, while she herself only managed the tiniest spark in the hours that Lizzy allowed Semaki to borrow her wand.

But even one spark was more than Lizzy ever knew a squib could do, so they kept trying.

On the day Semaki finally managed to conjure her own hair ribbon, it was a joyous occasion, but it was shortly followed by tragedy. When Semaki's father delivered her to the clinic the next day, shouting too fast for her shoddy translation charm, Lizzy didn't know what to do about the broken state she was in. The head matron was little help, and even the Moon Priestess had doubts. Despite Lizzy's efforts, Semaki died right in front of her eyes, and that night Sila put Lizzy on a plane to Japan, before she could be scapegoated.

She spent the next three weeks carefully _not_ thinking about it, distracted by new adventures in another new exotic locale. No doubt she would have to deal with her feelings about it later, but it was just too hard to face it now, and too easy to pretend it didn't happen at all... a dream-turned-nightmare that she could leave a thousand miles behind her.

And from then on, Lizzy held all her friends at arm's length. Riley and Rayna might have noticed, but they had always given Lizzy her space, and Riley in particular was a rock of steady companionship, without prying questions into her summer activities. She found some amusement in the way they both could admire the cute boys of Hogwarts and evaluate their dating potential. Anyone who didn't know Riley's orientation might have thought the two of them were an item, and that suited Lizzy just fine.

During school, without the distractions of gnarly healing jobs or randy teenage boys, Lizzy could throw herself into her studies and her musical passions. She wasn't really supposed to be callusing her healing hands on strings, but she kept Sila's old acoustic close to her, and she focused her innovations on the drumkit.

Sometimes, when she brought the thunder on those skins with her charmed sticks, she could close her eyes and feel the beat and forget every horrible thing she had seen.

\------------------------------

The next summer was by far her favorite holiday away from Hogwarts. Suloos, the mysterious Eunuch of Lesvos, had invited her to his little island in the Mediterranean, and she studied in detail the reality of the many curses on his body. She had healed all manner of sickness and injury, but this was her first lesson in curse-breaking, and she was thrown in the deep end, with a man whose ailments had stumped many of the world's greatest healers.

In between intense rituals, for him and for her, they played music together, and he taught her a great deal about the pleasures of the body, mind, and heart. The Greeks had many words for the nuance of love, and it gave Lizzy something positive to think about.

Sila had dropped her off. She didn't know where mum had gone, and couldn't ask her advice to process these new lessons.

One evening, with less than a week left before she would head back to Hogwarts, she sat at the stone bench of their tea table, and she asked, respectfully, "Teacher, how are you still alive?"

He smiled at her, which was not uncommon. His usual countenance was _merry_ , and it had baffled Liz that he must be in so much pain physically but still so genial. He replied, "The Curse of Tithonus."

Lizzy squeezed her eyes shut and wracked her brain. She was woefully ignorant of Greek myth, especially considering her given name. There were too many contradictory accounts, and she didn't much care for the many betrayals among the figures in this branch of mythology. Since arriving in Greece, she heard the basic stories of Persephone, and they all left her feeling disturbed at the notion that her life was always so different for just one season of each year.

Suloos interrupted her wandering thoughts, and he said, "When a god curses a human, it is nearly unbreakable."

She opened her eyes and frowned. Did she have to accept the existence of gods now, in addition to all the suffering she had seen? What kinds of gods would allow such pain in the world? What kinds of gods would curse humans? What would her reaction be to meet such a god?

"This particular curse means I cannot be relieved of my suffering by any means other than old age, and even then..." He leaned forward over his cup and whispered, "I have already seen more than two hundred years."

Lizzy gasped, her eyes watering. "And how many of those have you been known as the Eunuch?"

"Too many," he said softly, so quiet she wasn't sure she had heard him correctly. "Save your sympathy, Persephone. The pains of this body are nothing against the wounds on the soul, and you provide plenty of comfort on that score."

Taking a deep breath, Lizzy opened her mouth to sing, but he shook his head.

"You need to understand this, my pupil. Your Siren's Song can reach the heart, but your touch exudes the pure white magic of your soul." He set down his teacup and held both hands out, palms up.

She slid hers into them, and she watched him close his eyes in bliss.

He kept those eyes closed, but he said clearly, "You are a Soul Healer. It is your sacred duty to ease the suffering of torn souls." Then he looked at her again. "From your perspective, this is no doubt a curse of the gods, as well."

She snorted, and then blushed at the disrespectful outburst. She was also a bit relieved at the implication that a curse of the gods was not literally cast by a god.

"Dark wizards will feel it the most, but only if they also feel remorse. Everyone has both light and dark inside them, and it is that struggle which is calmed by contact with you. You are the bridge, Persephone, that eases the passing between the light and the dark, just as your namesake was a bridge that eased the passing between life and death."

Lizzy didn't really understand. The bridge between light and dark. What did that even mean?

"The question you need to ask yourself, and answer sooner than later, is in which direction you will lead them?"

Now she was starting to understand. She knew this answer already, and she rose to come around the table and lay her hands on his shoulders. Gently massaging him, she said, "Teacher, your soul is just not just torn. It is _tortured_ , and I can feel it. But somehow you are still here, and still relatively sane, and you have already taught me so much light magic that I eagerly await tomorrow's lesson."

Then she slipped her hands down his chest, leaning close to his ear.

"This sacred duty is not a curse. It is my joy to provide comfort. I wish to do more than simply relieve suffering. Tonight, can we have another lesson in pleasuring the body?"

\------------------------------

Despite her now-eager study of the human body, and all the ways it might feel _pleasure_ instead of _pain_ , Lizzy was more focused than ever on her music. While Harry Potter was impressing everyone at the Triwizard Tournament, Lizzy formalized papers on her musical inventions. With the help of Flitwick, as her mentor, and Snape, as her Head of House (and thus her career counselor), and a solicitor named Werner Schwarz, she acquired patents on her work from the Office of Spell Rights at the Ministry of Magic. 

At that time, Snape had asked when she would display her skills in a performance for the school, and she had hoped to save it for a celebration of a Hogwarts victory in the Tournament. But then, when Harry Potter emerged from the maze carrying their dead schoolmate, Lizzy no longer felt that it would be appropriate. And so, Lizzy's passion was once again shoved aside, as she swept off with her mother to Paris for the summer, and then returned to the oppressive reign of Delores Umbridge.

On the train to school that September, Riley ambushed her with Kellan Rickard, unceremoniously shoving them both into a compartment and applying a locking ward so strong that she and Kellan were forced to work together to break it.

They had a heated argument over the possible means of doing so, and each wanted to try their own ways, but their independent attempts were insufficient.

Finally, Kellan put his hands in the air and said, "All right, Liz, we'll try your tandem-magic idea. But we're in here like this because I wanted to ask you for a date, and first I asked Riley if you two were really together or not. He said something like, _oh thank the gods,_ and the next thing I knew we were here."

For just a second she was furious, but then remembered that Riley had never once done wrong by her. She and Riley had even girl-talked the positive potential of Kellan as boyfriend material. They hadn't been sure which way Kellan leaned, but it seemed they had their answer now.

"So what do you say, Liz? If we can manage to work some tandem magic on this door, maybe we could have a walk by the lake. I see you running there, sometimes. Looks peaceful, but intense. I want to know what that's like."

A tiny smile graced her lips. "Peaceful but intense. Yes, if that's what you want, then I think I might be able to make that happen."

There was something reassuring about the way their combined casting broke Riley's locking spell. It felt like maybe, if she had the right partner, she could break any curse, even a curse of the gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Alpha/Beta Request~
> 
> Many thanks to the beta team! If you are still reading at this point, you might be alpha/beta material, and I would like to invite you to The Liz Fic on Discord at https://discord.gg/zR8HRKz.


	2. A Million Years Old But Just A Little Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Alpha and Beta Readers~
> 
> Many thanks to the fabulous Psherman, who provided the primary beta-read on these early chapters so I could get publishing. You're amazing, lovely! 
> 
> If anyone would like to join the alpha/beta team, please join The Liz Fic on Discord at https://discord.gg/zR8HRKz.

# Girl Like That P1Ch2 Playlist

  * Title track: "Falling Into Grace" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers 1995
  * "Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" by Creedence Clearwater Revival 1970
  * "Come Sail Away" by Sytx 1977
  * _Zep_ probably any bluesy cheating song by Led Zeppelin c.1970s
  * _the Chilis probably something from BSSM 1991 or One Hot Minute 1995_
  * _her new favorite, the Foo Fighters_ could be anything from the debut album 1995
  * "Foreplay/Long Time" by Boston 1976
  * _She kept count of the timing by humming a healing song._



Chapter 2 Playlist: [ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TReUyuzc6jqVkSkhCPaci ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6TReUyuzc6jqVkSkhCPaci)

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [ https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

# Chapter 2: A Million Years Old But Just A Little Girl

**A/N: No, for real tho. Heed them thar CONTENT WARNINGS. Brutal gnarly healing scene incoming.**

Persephone Lysandra Althea looked back on her sixth year with a critical eye, as she had been doing since Umbridge was defeated. It was now three-thirty in the morning, and in a matter of hours she would be on a train to London. She hadn't slept a full night through the whole week, and she wondered if Riley and Kellan would consent to watch over her while she dozed on the Hogwarts Express. The return of the Dark Lord was a scary prospect, even for a Slytherin. The ministry's denials and the tyranny of Umbridge had set everyone on edge, waiting for the moment when everything would come to a head.

Between that, and the horrible things she had seen abroad, Liz's best sleep came in the arms of Kellan Rickard. She and Kellan were dating, as best they could under Umbridge's rules. He was sweet and sincere, and he didn't ask questions when she woke up from the nightmares. He simply held her until she could go back to sleep. On special occasions he would make love to her tenderly, and she would enjoy the dreamless sleep that followed. Tonight, though, he had failed to come see her, and she had dreamt disturbing visions, half-rooted in real memories, of screaming patients and blood on her hands.

It had been like that for months. Years, really, but not as intense and frequent as it became this term. She was starting to dread the coming summer, despite not even knowing the itinerary. They would be going home today, and she had been avoiding conversations with Kellan and Riley about her summer plans.

Sila had agreed that Liz could stay home an extra week or two, to have a stage show at The Raven Witch. Liz was an adult now, and she wanted to test the limits of her musical magic. But, after that, would she whisk Liz away once again for another summer of hard lessons and brutal reality? Did she want to expose Kellan to such horrors?

They were both so young, but at seventeen, Liz felt ancient. Kellan and Liz did not share much about their respective pasts, but that was normal in Slytherin. They took their comfort from each other, and that was enough for both of them. As for the future, she knew he wanted to go into politics, like his father, and he knew that she wanted to pursue music.

Plenty of people at Hogwarts knew that she had some talent and passion for music. Flitwick knew, since she'd sought his help learning and developing charms related to playing and recording. Snape knew, thanks to the traditional fifth-year career planning. He thought it was highly unorthodox, but not impossible to make a living with music, especially considering the dedication she had already demonstrated working with Flitwick, and formal patents she had already acquired on the spells, potions, and devices she created. Riley knew -- he was her best friend, after all, even if she did try to protect him from some of her secrets. And a few other peers in the all-House section of Music class were probably catching on, though she downplayed her talent to better fit in with the group. 

None of this was terribly worrisome. She might have to be a little more careful about the content of her live performances and published works, but art could be a good excuse to remain aloof from the very politics that Kellan intended to master.

But no one at Hogwarts knew that Liz was a True Healer. Not even Kellan, Riley, or Rayna. Her own parents, actually, were the biggest wildcards as far as Liz's own uncertain future was concerned, and she wasn't sure where they stood politically. They owned The Raven Witch, a bar hidden in London away from Diagon Alley, but in Liz's memory she could not recall many words one way or the other about Dumbledore or the Dark Lord. She knew her mother had once been the most beautiful pureblood lady, but Liz had never talked to anyone on the Avery side of her family. They had shunned her mother when she married a muggle-born wizard, just before the first rise of the Dark Lord. There was a distinct possibility that her mother's actions from before she was born could come back to bite Liz in the arse.

For just one minute Liz allowed herself to grieve over letting music take a back seat to her other talents. She remembered her naive self at the age of 11, so determined to be a rock star. She was only allowed to hold on to that innocence for one term, and then Sila began training her in those other skills. As much as she had accomplished in her musical spells, she felt held back. She was expected to study healing on the side while at school, and Liz was actually forbidden to callous her fingers any further on guitar strings. Not that it stopped her.

Liz sighed. There was really nothing to do at this point, except to keep alert. She tossed aside the covers and slipped out of bed, thankful to have her own room. It had been lonely at first, being the only female Slytherin in her year, but the perks of a private room were unquestionable. Rayna would often come to her for a little privacy and venting, learning quickly that Liz could express empathy without pity, and that Rayna's secrets were safe with her. Having just graduated, Rayna was taking a gap year to travel, and Liz had strongly encouraged it. For all the terrors she'd seen and the nightmares they'd caused, she _loved_ seeing the world and learning about kinds of magic that were not taught at Hogwarts, magic more personal and connected to nature.

She hoped Rayna would enjoy it, and she was maybe a little jealous of Rayna's upcoming experience, far removed from the growing tension at home.

The more Liz thought about it, the more she realized that her own secrets might not be as juicy or damning as the internal house politics to which she was privy. Her parents were not trying to actively recruit her to either side of the war, and her only tie to the ministry was through Kellan's father. She was actually doing her best to follow Snape's example, never revealing a true loyalty (if she -- or he, for that matter -- even had one) but listening carefully to all the information she was given and advising the cautious following of one's own conscience. If she had any inkling toward politics, she probably could have done quite well.

Liz abruptly ended that train of thought, added a few wards to her already well-protected door, and then pulled off her nightgown and lit up the room. She took stock of herself at the full-length mirror.

 _Not bad_ , she thought, charming away bedhead. Instead of her usual headband, Liz pulled back her dark hair with a green ribbon, tying in a white calla lily. She loved wearing her hair back with flowers, but it wasn’t practical for most days at school. Her body was the same as usual, curvy and unblemished, except for those marks which she purposefully received. Liz briefly caressed the tattooed outline of the asklepian staff on her left shoulder, but then rolled her eyes and carefully pulled a white, long-sleeved, high-necked, cotton shirt over her head, and then a gray babydoll tee over that. 

With her fingertips, she traced fading silver stretch marks along the creases of her hips. Maybe she wasn’t as unblemished as she thought. Faded jeans and a hoodie joined the outfit. Everything fit just a bit tighter than at the beginning of the year. She was tall, recently shooting up to five-foot-nine and towering over the lower-form students.

Then Liz stepped closer to the mirror and took a good look at her face. The dark circles under her brown eyes were getting darker. Maybe she should ask Madam Pomfrey if she could take home a dose or two of something to help her sleep. Though Pomfrey's tonics tended to fail her, with any luck, she would have something else to try. And maybe, if not, she could work up the courage to ask Snape. He was a Potions Master, and her Head of House, after all.

And he knew she wasn't sleeping well. It was rather awkward, actually, when she had been called into his office in the middle of February. Umbridge was screening all incoming packages, and Liz's order of various sleep aids, both muggle and magical, had caught her attention. Umbridge had asked Snape to identify the contents of the package, and he simply delivered them to Liz, saying that he told Umbridge he'd confiscate and dispose of them properly. 

It wasn't until later, when she was opening them all in the privacy of her room, that she realized he had taken about half of her loot. She wondered briefly if he wasn't sleeping well either, and let the matter drop. During the following month or so, Liz methodically tried all of the drugs and potions, dismayed that only the Ambien seemed to help, but it came with bold-faced warnings about dependency. When she ran out, she was extremely irritable, and it took all of Kellan's and Riley's patience to keep her in check. They staged a bit of an intervention and made her promise not to take any more muggle drugs for her insomnia.

She didn't tell either of them about the marijuana. It didn't keep the nightmares away, but it at least helped her relax during her waking hours. She'd been smoking weed since the summer of 1992, when it became a coping mechanism for all the human suffering she witnessed as a healer. She didn't smoke much at school, but even the bit she did was hidden from the boys. Obviously they would not approve.

Literally shaking herself out of this year-in-review, Liz added a silencing charm to the room and retrieved her guitar from under the bed. Everything else was packed in her trunk or her hemp-rope handbag. She seated herself cross-legged on the bed and played a few chords, choosing a song and tuning the strings. Then a Creedence ballad filled the room, and she opened her mouth and her heart.

_"Have You Ever Seen the Rain?" by Creedence Clearwater Revival_

_Someone told me long ago, there's a calm before the storm.  
_ _I know, and it's been comin' for some time.  
_ _When it's over, so they say, it'll rain a sunny day.  
_ _I know, shinin' down like water._

 _I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?  
_ _I want to know, have you ever seen the rain,  
_ _comin' down on a sunny day?_

 _Yesterday, and days before, sun is cold and rain is hard.  
_ _I know, been that way for all my time.  
_ _'Til forever on it goes, through the circle fast and slow,  
_ _I know, and it can't stop, I wonder._

 _I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?  
_ _I want to know, have you ever seen the rain,  
_ _comin' down on a sunny day?_

_Yeeeeaaaaaahhh!_

_I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?  
_ _I want to know, have you ever seen the rain,  
_ _comin' down on a sunny day?_

Liz relaxed, for the first time in a week. She cleared her mind and let the music flow through her. By the time she finished playing, she felt ready to face the world again.

Dawn was breaching the horizon, and Liz released the wards on her door.

There were very few students at breakfast so early, and Liz was quite comfortable with having half the Slytherin House table to herself. She was moodily nibbling on a fruit salad when Professor Snape came by, on his way to the Head table. He stopped and said, "Good morning, Miss Althea."

Liz blinked, and then turned to look up at him. "Good morning," she replied. Typically Snape would greet the Slytherin students in passing, and she was momentarily suspicious of his still presence.

"Miss Althea," he said again, pausing, as if he had not expected to find her and hadn't thought of what to say. "I suggest you continue to pursue your music. I could be a... _versatile_... career, and such talents should not be wasted."

Whatever Liz had thought he'd say, she certainly did not expect this. She recovered quickly, however, and smiled as warmly as she could. "Well, Professor, do come by my parents' pub on Saturday next, and you may see a hell of a rock show."

His face contorted somewhere between a sneer and a smile, before falling into an exhausted frown. She knew that expression very well, having seen it so often in the mirror. He said quietly, "If I do not make it, then I wish you success." Then he abruptly swept away.

Liz watched him go for a few steps and then shrugged to herself. She did not have long to contemplate this odd behavior before Kellan arrived. He looked almost as tired as Snape had, with his brown hair mussed and a deep frown only slightly lightening when he caught sight of her. "Morning," he said, his normally smooth voice all hoarse and gravelly. Then he sat next to her, but not as close as he normally chose.

She swallowed and asked, "Something wrong, my dear?"

Kellan sighed as his usual -- bacon and eggs and toast and marmalade and yogurt -- all appeared before him. He selected the toast and took a tiny bite. "Yes," he said.

Liz waited patiently as he took another little bite and swallowed.

"I practically spent the night in Snape's office. My father flooed and said he wants to send me to Germany for the summer. _Meine Tante_ is picking me up at the station today."

Her breath hitched, and Liz had half a thought of just packing up and going with him. She had just spent her winter holiday in Munich, and she could happily go back and drink twice as much beer and eat twice as many pretzels and heal half as many injuries and just _hide_ for a while.

But he read her response all wrong, and Kellan said, "I'm trying to talk him out of it, that's why I was away all night. But Umbridge is back at the Ministry, and father says the whole feeling of the place has changed, and it's more dangerous to have an opinion at all, let alone a fair and unbiased one."

Liz gulped down a grape she'd been chewing and grimaced. "Working with her would be difficult."

Kellan snorted, and then stabbed viciously at his breakfast with his fork. "Since our world is not yet in a state of open warfare, those who remember this kind of time before the first rise of the Dark Lord are skittish about... _sudden and mysterious disappearances_."

Kellan ate more heartily now, and Liz lost her appetite.

"Father was especially concerned that I have a girlfriend he's never met, and that was another point of our argument that took longer than it should have. I trust you, Liz, but father says times are too dangerous for romance."

Her instinct was to scoff, but she checked that reaction before she could insult her boyfriend's father or fall too deeply into the assumption that Kellan was acting like a coward. This concern over a mysterious romance with a secretive young lady was probably legitimate, and Liz's perception of risk and reward was completely out of whack from what she had witnessed over the years.

"Anyway, my cousins are in Germany, and father wants me to go there, maybe permanently. My cousins have a private tutor in Stuttgart, but I love Hogwarts. And I love you, too, Liz. You've been avoiding me this last week. What are your plans?"

Shaking her head, she said, "I wish I knew. Mum usually takes me traveling, just the two of us, ladies-only spas and seedy pubs around the world. If I hadn't just _been_ to Germany, I might want to go with you."

The hurt in his eyes was subtle, but she knew it well enough. She saw it every time she lied to him.

He ran a hand through his hair, which only made him look more unkempt, and he said, "I still want to be with you, but I guess I'm trying to say that what's really wrong this morning is how I think he is going to make it very difficult for me to keep seeing you. And if you're traveling elsewhere anyway, I guess for now I should just leave it alone and try to make sure I'm coming back to Hogwarts in September."

Liz nodded, unsure if it was the right thing to do. They stared at each other for one painful moment, and then Kellan turned back to his food. Glancing at hers and feeling repulsed, she cleared her throat and said, "I'm going for a run. See you on the train."

\------------------------------

Their first date had been out at the lake, watching the sun set and the magical fireflies dance in firework patterns. Evenings out there were romantic, when they could get away with it under the watchful eye of Umbridge. But mornings were for Liz to have alone time. The sun was still climbing over the mountains, and Liz breathed the fresh air deeply as she worked up her heart rate in a full lap around the lake.

A mind-clearing, solo exercise did wonders for the soul.

Liz avoided talking to the boys on the train. She tried to doze, laying her head in Kellan's lap and propping her feet up on Riley's. The boys did their best to soothe her, playing the letters game, sotto voice, until their murmurs helped her relax. She was so proud of them, becoming friends through her, but she was exhausted, and her feelings for Kellan all suddenly conflicted.

When Kellan tried to kiss her goodbye at the train station, Liz kept it brief and chaste.

When Liz arrived at home, she hardly spent four hours settling in, getting fussed over by Lippy the house elf, and then she left for The Raven Witch and got straight to work with the details of her performance. Now that she was 17 and allowed to work with any magic she pleased, she was ready to rock, big time.

She refined her playlist, practiced all her instrumental parts, choreographed her dance moves, created the spell tracks for the music, and customized the special effects spells. On Saturday the sixth day of July, she was ready to play.

Liz began setting up her stage and spells early in the evening. The regulars had seen her play at the pub before, and the excitement in the room was palpable as they anticipated her first performance as an adult. Soon the place was full. Riley was there, seated with Professor Flitwick at a back table, but she was not holding out hope for Kellan. She had sent an owl their second day home, and he had not responded. There was no sign of Snape, either, but she had not really expected him to come.

Finally the instruments were tuned, effects prepared, and all was ready. Liz set up a room upstairs for wardrobe changes, dressed herself in a flowing, full-length, pale green dress, and came back down to start the show.

She carefully set her electric guitar on a stand center-stage, and she herself sat down at the piano and glanced out at the crowd, where mum was waitressing (or, flirting, as it were), and Liz winked at the regular who caught her looking. Then she tipped her chin up toward her daddy, who was serving drinks alongside his Saturday-night help, and he gave her a thumbs up. 

A quick flick of her wand set the timing for the other instruments, and she was ready to belt out one of her favorite songs. She had choreographed this one very carefully, to get up from the piano in a seamless transition of her playback charm, to fetch her guitar and wail on it while she rocked out the last half of the song. This was a piece of magic that no one outside Hogwarts had ever seen.

_"Come Sail Away" by Styx_

_I'm sailing away  
_ _Set an open course for the Virgin Sea  
_ _'Cause I've got to be free  
_ _Free to face the life that's ahead of me_

 _On board I'm the captain  
_ _So climb aboard  
_ _We'll search for tomorrow  
_ _On every shore and I'll try  
_ _Oh Lord I'll try  
_ _To carry on_

 _I look to the sea  
_ _Reflections in the waves spark my memory  
_ _Some happy some sad  
_ _I think of childhood friends and the dreams we had_

 _We live happily forever  
_ _So the story goes  
_ _But somehow we missed out  
_ _On that pot of gold  
_ _But we'll try best that we can  
_ _To carry on_

 _A gathering of angels  
_ _Appeared above my head  
_ _They sang to me this song of hope  
_ _And this is what they said_

 _They said, come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me_

 _I thought that they were angels  
_ _But to my surprise  
_ _We climbed aboard their starship  
_ _We headed for the skies_

 _Singing, come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me  
_ _Come sail away, come sail away  
_ _Come sail away with me_

For the rest of the night, Liz rocked the crowd with a variety of rock and pop, selecting tracks from her favorite artists, including Zep and the Chilis and her new favorite, the Foo Fighters, and she would choose one instrument for each, or focus on the singing and dancing. She changed her clothes a few times, including a black corseted dress robe for the moodier tunes and a sleeveless red dress to show some skin and tattoos during a very sexy third set.

She used what she knew about healing songs to move the mood of the audience, and Liz knew she was making an impact on people. The pub was so jammed full of people that she could not even speak with Riley or Flitwick during her breaks -- she was mobbed by congratulations from the crowd before she could reach either of them.

They had never really needed dedicated security at The Raven Witch, but Liz thought maybe they should hire that kind of help the next time she performed.

As three o'clock approached, Liz's daddy gave her the signal to wrap it up, and Jim, who only worked Saturday nights to make a little extra spending cash, started tabbing out the patrons.

"Well, everyone," Liz said to an only slightly dwindling crowd, "I guess this is last call. I do hope you have had a wonderful time. I'm very pleased you found a few songs suitable for dancing, even if there wasn't much room for it, and I look forward to doing this again sometime sooner than later."

Cheers erupted, but Liz held up her hands. "I think I can do one more for you tonight." Liz sat down at the drum set and prepared the music spells. She was rather excited about this one. When playing guitar was not an option, drums were her favorite, and this song had a really fun opener. Drumming and singing at the same time was always rather difficult, so she saved it for especially rocking songs.

_"Foreplay/Long Time" by Boston_

_It's been such a long time  
_ _I think I should be goin', yeah  
_ _And time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin'  
_ _Sail on, on a distant highway  
_ _I've got to keep on chasin' a dream  
_ _I've gotta be on my way  
_ _Wish there was something I could say._

 _Well I'm takin' my time, I'm just movin' along  
_ _You'll forget about me after I've been gone  
_ _And I take what I find, I don't want no more  
_ _It's just outside of your front door._

_It's been such a long time. It's been such a long time._

_Well I get so lonely when I am without you  
_ _But in my mind, deep in my mind,  
_ _I can't forget about you  
_ _Good times, and faces that remind me  
_ _I'm tryin' to forget your name and leave it all behind me  
_ _You're comin' back to find me._

 _Well I'm takin' my time, I'm just movin' along  
_ _You'll forget about me after I've been gone  
_ _And I take what I find, I don't want no more  
_ _It's just outside of your front door._

_It's been such a long time. It's been such a long time._

_Yeah. It's been such a long time, I think I should be goin', yeah  
_ _And time doesn't wait for me, it keeps on rollin'  
_ _There's a long road, I've gotta stay in time with  
_ _I've got to keep on chasin' that dream, though I may never find it  
_ _I'm always just behind it._

Well I'm takin' my time, I'm just movin' along  
 _Takin' my time, just movin' along  
_ Takin' my time, yeah I'm takin' my time...

\------------------------------

The good weather hadn't lasted. The warm sunny days turned cold and misty just days before Liz's performance, and the activities of the Dark Lord seemed to be increasing dramatically. People were disappearing, and some turned up dead. Maybe Kellan's father had been right, and times were too dangerous for romance. That thought made Liz feel mildly guilty about even briefly thinking of Kellan as a coward.

Then Liz spent another evening at The Raven Witch with her parents, serving drinks, giving massages, singing a little, and reading a book that was on her list from the Parisian Healers Association. She had spent the previous summer holiday in France, learning a great deal in a formal school there for healers.

And finally, today, Sila announced that she and Liz would stay home for the summer, close to Markus and their pub. It would probably have been safer to go abroad, but Sila was adamant that it was good for them to spend some time at home.

Liz was overjoyed, and promptly started compiling new playlists for each week.

At closing time. Liz's parents were cleaning up, and they sent Liz ahead back to the house. When she arrived, her tummy grumbled, and she went straight to the kitchen. Liz knew perfectly well that she could be rather irritable when hungry. As Liz prepared to say the spell to light the stovetop cooker, a funny feeling prickled the skin on the back of her neck. She wasn't used to the alarm wards on the house. She couldn't remember them ever triggering in the past. She clenched her jaw, then her fists, and she closed her eyes to focus on the point of the breach.

A _crack_ sounded, and Liz opened her eyes to see a house elf with a well-sewn dress of Frito-Lay-family crisp bags.

Liz smiled. "Lippy! I expected you would still be at The Raven Witch, but I'm so glad you are here. Can you help me with the wards, and then prevent me from making a mess of the kitchen?"

"Miss Lizzy," Lippy said, more serious than she'd ever been. "You have a visitor in the tea room." And then she popped out of sight.

All right. A visitor. That explained the alarm ward.

Liz took stock of herself. The simple black summer dress was sleeveless, showing off her snakes armband and ancient healing staff, but other marks she'd rather not explain were hidden. She quickly ran a hand through her hair and stepped lightly toward the tea room. When she finally opened the door, her jaw dropped. She had missed him briefly last night, and yet now here he was. Then she pulled herself together, swept in close, and offered her right hand in a formal witchmaiden's greeting she had first learned to greet the Moon Priestess, and then again among the purebloods in Paris. "Professor Snape, what a surprise. May I offer you tea?"

She was pleased to notice him pause as well, before taking her hand in his right and giving it the swiftest of kisses, in the formal greeting of a bachelor wizard approaching a respected witchmaiden. She hadn't actually expected that greeting to work, but she had little chance to consider it, for he said, "No time. It is said you are a True Healer, and he means to test you. If you have any supplies to carry with you for an emergency, I suggest you fetch them. We may only have seconds before we are summoned."

 _So today would be the day,_ she thought, turning on her heel and heading for the cellar. "Come!" she snapped at him, without bothering to look back. This man was known for his silent step, catching misbehaving students unaware, so she simply trusted that he was behind her. She didn't have time for second-guessing anything. Today the darkness would call her. Some kind of test. Probably people would die, other than those she could save. She could have fled, but she knew her refusal would not prevent any deaths.

Suddenly the teacher-student roles were erased from her mind. He was no longer Professor Snape, nor even Snape. He was a Potions Master who was following her lead, and she would use that control to leverage whatever assistance she could from him.

Once in the cellar, Liz drew Snape to the workbench, where she had a distillation apparatus in use. "Professor, I'm sure you'll recognize the attempt here to extract the essence of dittany. Please do what you can to bottle me something usable." Then she turned her back to stuff a bag with tools and brews. Liz was impressed by Snape's ability to take orders in an emergency, even though he probably knew more than he was telling.

Just one minute later, she heard him hitch his breath -- not quite a full on gasp -- and say, "We are out of time." They both fumbled with their tasks for another ten seconds. Then Snape was stuffing a small vial in her hand. "It will be slower and more painful, but it will work."

"I understand," she said, and stowed the vial in her bag. Then Liz took a second to visualize some steel in her backbone, looked Snape in the eye, and did not stutter when she said, "I'm ready."

Snape nodded, and held out his right arm. "Grip tightly."

Liz was familiar with side-along apparition. Her mother had used it many times in their travels. Now, she obeyed and closed her eyes. When the uncomfortable squeezing sensation passed, a chilly breeze bit her, and she opened her eyes to one of the most frightening things she had ever seen.

It was The Raven Witch, and it was in shambles. It was too late for any patrons to still be there, so it was also too late for any help to be coming to this small pub hidden in Muggle London. The full meaning of the moment suddenly hit her. Somewhere in the wreckage, Liz's parents were dying, and she was the only one who could save them.

Liz's feet started working, and her wand, too. In a matter of seconds she blasted through the front door and cleared the broken and upturned tables and chairs. She spotted her father, prone on the floor and mutilated nearly beyond recognition, but the noise must have stirred Sila.

"Hello?" was the weak cry.

"Mum!" Liz leaped over the bar and found Sila with her legs crushed under a fallen shelf, a bruised face, and a faraway look in her eyes. "Mum stay awake," she said, casting a quick spell. "You're going to make it, mum. I need to see to daddy."

She scrambled back to Markus and took a few seconds to assess the situation and diagnostic spells. There were spell wounds all over, weeping blood or pus or both. His face was covered in crusty brown blood and dark bruises. His left hand was mangled. There was probably no saving it. It looked like someone had picked up a leg from a broken chair, stabbed Markus in the chest near the heart, and used that same weapon as a lever to pry open the chest cavity.

Liz knew that if this had been anyone else, she would have given up. Her daddy was dying, and she was too late. A warm feeling settled in the pit of Liz's stomach as she detached herself from her emotions, and then she carefully spelled the crusty blood away from her father's face. That should help clear blocked airways. She produced her precious bottle of dittany and attempted to seal the weeping lacerations. Markus's body twitched disturbingly, but the application was working, and even that involuntary nerve response gave her some drive. Some hope.

That open chest wound was certainly causing his death. She used her left hand to put pressure on the ribs while she gently pulled the piece of wood out. Liz was nervous about throwing around spells in a gnarly open chest cavity -- hand healing it is, then.

Her left hand continued to apply pressure, to keep blood from gushing. With her right hand, she prodded all the ribs back into place and felt around the heart. The arteries and veins seemed to be intact, at least intact enough to carry some blood. But the heart was not beating, and she was sure he had lost too much blood to maintain vital pressure.

Liz took a deep breath. What she was about to do would work in theory, if his brain hadn't been too damaged. She gently wrapped both hands around the heart and closed her eyes.

And then she pumped. And counted. She kept count of the timing by humming a healing song. She kept pumping until the heartbeat rhythm of her hands was automatic. She gathered the energy left in her soul and focused it into the lifeblood pumping through the organ in her hands.

She could feel it, slowly. The heart was still weak but blood pressure was rising. Just a little more, and Liz let go, reaching for her wand as she monitored the heartbeat, which slowed and stopped. "Damn," she muttered, and gathered her focus, placing her wand directly on her father's heart. " _Conmoveo_ ," she whispered, which produced a tiny electrical pulse. One pump followed, but the heart stopped again.

" _Conmoveo._ " One pump.

" _Conmoveo._ " Another single pump.

"Damn it all. Merlin and Circe help me." Oh, but wait. Liz turned around. Yes. Snape was still there, just watching from the doorway. She almost spared a moment to be angry at him, but intellectually she knew better and instinctively she had more important things to worry about. Liz got up and made her way to the cash drawer, saying, "Professor, draw your wand. I will set a repeating timer on a spell. Do you know how to open and close a rune-spell binding?" She procured a knut from the cash drawer and laid it on the bar. She glanced at Sila, who seemed to have passed out. "Professor Snape, I mean _now_."

Snape came to the bar and held his wand over the knut. 

"Hold your wand opposite mine. I will bind the runes to the coin. Once I have bound Berkana, you open with _aperta_ , and after I add the spell, you close with _finio_."

Snape gave a slight nod.

With swift precision, Liz used her wand to carefully draw the runes over the coin, naming each as she did so. "Sowulo, Dagaz, Jera, Berkana,"

" _Aperta_."

" _Conmoveo_."

" _Finio_."

Liz felt a surge of their combined power. It was an odd sensation, rather pleasant, as if the runes were reassuring them.

Liz picked up the knut. It pulsed her gently. A second later it did again. She frowned. "It's just a little off," she muttered to herself, but she knew exactly how to adjust the timing. All her experience with music, and ambition to experiment with her musical tools, was finally paying off as a healer.

Liz made her way back to her father as she sped up the timing, and then she attached it to his heart with a physical binding spell.

Pulse. Pump. Pulse. Pump. Pulse. Pump.

Merlin's shriveled dead balls, it was working! But it was dangerous to leave the chest wide open. She quickly reassembled his breast plate and closed up the gaping hole. Then she cast a vitals diagnostic. It was still working. "Professor, monitor the heartbeat. Tell me immediately if it fails."

As Snape did what he was told, Liz turned her focus back to her mother. "Wake up, mum. Wake up!" Liz got no response, so she touched her wand to Sila's temple and whispered, " _Rennervate_."

Sila opened her eyes. "Lizzy?" she asked weakly.

"Yes, mum, it's me. Where does it hurt the most?"

Sila's eyes started to roll back into her head.

"No!" Liz grabbed her mother's face in both hands. "Look at me! Talk to me! Stay awake!"

Sila looked, but Liz soon realized her mistake. Sila's eyes bugged out at Liz's bloodstained hands holding her in place, and she began screaming and thrashing. She knocked Liz backward, and Liz hit the edge of the bar head-first. Before she could react or entertain another thought, Liz blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Acknowledgements~
> 
> Obviously, we wouldn't be playing in this world without JKR. Avid fantasy fans may also recognize the influence of Anne Bishop, especially in the Mists of Mind that the Legilimancers encounter, as well as the social structure of covens and champions. It's only just barely not a crossover.
> 
> I owe a lot of ideas in this story to other fic writers, at least on some level. One of the early SSHG fics, Falling Further In by Kaz, definitely had an impact on my view of Hogwarts and the faculty behind what the students normally see. I so directly lifted various details that I decided I may as well name the house elf Lippy in homage.
> 
> A lost fic by Resmiranda, Like Shadows on the Winter Sky, was a huge eye-opener for me (which is a ha-ha pun for anyone who knows the story) and also enjoyed the subtle angst of mind & soul healing after terrible dark curses and torture. And then there's the old WitchFics-dot-org archive -- everything on it was pure gold, but you have to use the Wayback Machine to access it now.
> 
> The Phoenix series by Grangerous was also a major inspiration, in the sense that it finally seemed possible to write a canon-compliant Snapefic that tells a "hidden" story that Harry would not have known about while it was happening. 
> 
> If anyone recognizes something I obviously lifted from another fic, please contact me and I am happy to give credit where credit is due. I have literally read thousands of fics, so I won't be terribly surprised if I missed an important acknowledgement.
> 
> Aaaaaand, the music. Oh goodness, there's a lot of rock and pop in this fic. The setting in the 1990s is partly why I wanted to write this fic. Most of the lyrics will be credited inline, and I am attempting to credit every mention of any music in "The Playlist" portions that start each chapter. The chapter titles themselves are like a game of 90s Name That Tune.


	3. Whatsoever I've Feared Has Come To Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still hoping to collect another alpha/beta reader... or a few! There are already 59 more chapters of this series written and needing a once-over, with about 50 chapters left to write. If interested please join The Liz Fic on Discord at https://discord.gg/zR8HRKz.

#  P1Ch3 Playlist

  * Title track: "Fell on Black Days" by Soundgarden 1994
  * _listening to a Smashing Pumpkins album for nearly an hour_
  * "My Lovely Man" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers 1991
  * _"Shuffle Playlist Favorite Pink Floyd"_



Chapter 3 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5sRwyNFXNlyQMfPDOEEGfv>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 3: Whatsoever I've Feared Has Come To Life

Liz woke to a bright light and a throbbing head.

As the world came into focus, so too did the last events she witnessed. Her nausea must have registered to someone nearby, for she found herself heaving into some kind of bed pan.

"Take it easy, Miss Althea," said an unknown male voice, "You have a concussion. Although, I would guess you already knew that."

Liz took a few deep breaths and tried to focus her eyes, but the smell and sight of her own vomit made her lose it again.

A hand, presumably owned by the same person with the voice, gave her a clean bin and a cloth. She wiped her face, and was rewarded with a glass of water. One swish and spit later, Liz was ready to face the world, or at least her caregiver.

He was a brown-haired healer of indiscernible age with kind blue eyes and a seal on his robes which indicated his specialty in life-or-death emergencies. He was one of the special few that St. Mungo's kept on call at all times.

And he had just spent gods-know-how-long at Liz's bedside.

He followed Liz's gaze, and an odd look crossed his face. He produced his wand, severed the patch from his uniform, and held it out for Liz. "Take it, Miss Althea. I'll have them make me another. It's not as impressive as the Parisian Healers' seal inked into your back, but you honor me by accepting the token. I am Healer Jason Kayson. I picked up where you left off at The Raven Witch, but I must admit I could do little more."

Liz nodded. "I have questions."

"Of course you do. But I have one as well. Only one, and then you may ask as many as you like. And then if I have more, I may ask some more."

Liz nodded again. "That is acceptable. Your question?"

"How did you keep your father's heart beating?"

So straightforward. To the point. But the one question she could not answer fully. Not least because of the mixed emotions coursing through her. "He's alive?"

Healer Kayson gave her a stern look. Liz was sure she blushed in shame for already breaking her deal, then she took a couple of seconds to steel herself and detach emotionally before speaking. "I'm sorry. Of course, his heart. When I got to him, I thought he was already dead. His chest was wide open from some horrific mutilation. I pumped it manually while I increased his blood supply --"

"Manually?"

Liz gulped. She couldn't say it. Instead, she held out her hands and mimed the action.

When Healer Kayson's contorted frown told her that he understood, Liz continued. "But it wasn't enough. I didn't know if help was coming, and I couldn't just do that forever. So I zapped him. Defibrillation. Are you familiar with that heart-regulating technique?"

It was Healer Kayson's turn to nod. "But, if he was so far gone, it probably didn't work."

"Right. So I improvised. There's always a few coins in the cash drawer at The Raven Witch, even after closing time, so I got one, bound the spell to it with a timer, and implanted it before trying to tend to mum." She took a deep, steadying breath, afraid to ask the question, but too afraid not to ask. "My device is the only thing keeping him alive, isn't it?"

Healer Kayson gave her a searching look. Liz wasn't sure what he found, but it seemed to decide something for him. "Yes," he finally said. "The brain damage was too extensive."

"I thought so. Fixing the heart was a long shot in the first place, but I had to try. The device should be removed. And as no one should ever have to make something like that again, I should like to see personally to its destruction."

"I understand. However, I had a patient a few months ago who returns regularly for a chronic heart problem. It never occurred to me to do something like this, but a small adjustment seems like it would make your device just the ticket to his health."

Liz felt tears well up and closed her eyes tight. "If it --" she choked back a sob, and started over again, slower. "If it has waited months already, perhaps it can wait one more week for a better-researched answer." The urge to sob uncontrollably subsided, but quiet tears rolled freely down Liz's face. "I still want to obliterate this one."

"All right then. Now, you should rest."

"No. I want out of here. It was just a concussion. If I take it slow I will be fine. I want to see to my daddy today. And I have more questions for you."

"Then try to relax, and let's start with the questions."

"Who found us? And how?"

"I do not know that. Someone in reception called for me, and I was able to floo through."

Liz took a moment to digest this. Probably Snape had fixed up the fireplace, and then bolted once help was on the way. The bastard. She would have some questions for him too, once she saw him again. Liz gathered herself once more, and said, "The last thing I remember was my mother screaming. I think she hit me. But she wasn't nearly as damaged as daddy. How is mum now?"

"Alive and in great physical health."

The frown on his face tipped Liz off. "But..."

He nodded. "But. She was hyper-responsive and we had to sedate her. She came to a few hours ago, but she is not perceiving the same world the rest of us experience. Healer Bradstreet arrives today. She's an expert from Mentago who has agreed to treat your mother, and she would like more information about what led up to this incident. Miss Althea, do you know why your parents were so badly injured?"

The tears welled up fresh. "Because of me." She couldn't help sobbing this time. "Because. Of. Me." Liz covered her bawling face with her hands. "I knew," she mumbled, in between sobs and sniffles, "That someday someone here would find out I'm a Hand Healer. And I knew that would mean some kind of test. I never thought my parents would get hurt! Never!"

Healer Kayson sat patiently as she wailed. She wasn't sure how long -- it felt like forever, but after a few minutes or so, she was reduced to sniffles, and he handed her a handkerchief.

"Thank you," she said, after blowing her nose. "Mum and daddy are the most important people in my life. I can only assume they were tor --" She stuttered, stopped, and tried again, "-- tortured so thoroughly to really test the extent of my abilities." Liz hung her head.

She could hear Healer Kayson sigh. "So, Miss Althea, do you think they expected you to handle your mother's mental trauma as well?"

Liz didn't look up. "Maybe. Maybe that's why mum wasn't as hurt physically. They wanted to break her another way, to see if I could fix that too." Very quietly, Liz also asked, "Did they rape her?"

"Yes." No sugar-coating. Good. Liz didn't think she could handle sugar coating on such a fact.

Liz nodded but still didn't look up, wondering if the healers of Mentago would actually be able to help. Mentago Home was an asylum for the magical aristocracy. She could afford to have mum committed there, but she rather hoped that wouldn't be necessary. “Have you ever seen a broken witch before?"

"Broken like you mother? No. I take it you have."

Liz finally looked up. She saw him taken aback by the steely look in her eyes. "Yes. And to be honest, I'd rather not get that angry. Mum didn't tell me until far too late that a witch doesn't have to be a virgin to be broken this way. As much as I want to see my mother, I think I should wait a day." She paused just for a beat. “But I want to take care of daddy right away. Then I want to go home."

Healer Kayson nodded. "I have just a few more questions for you. First, is there anyone at home to keep you company when you leave here?"

Tears welled up again in Liz's eyes. She choked back a sob, closed her eyes against the flood, and outright lied, "Yes. Don't worry about me being alone." She was alone enough most of the time anyway, even at school in the crowds of Hogwarts. She knew she was too tired to do anything but sleep for the next day anyway.

When Liz said nothing further, Healer Kayson went on to the next question. "All right, then let me explain that there is a lot of pressure from the Ministry and from Hogwarts and from anonymous threats to keep this situation under wraps. You would be a most valuable asset in any hospital, but everyone seems very keen on you keeping your privacy. Do you have any idea why?"

Liz only needed a few seconds to think it over. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision, and looked at his face again. "Well, Healer Jason Kayson, I do not know for sure. That certainly makes it easier on me if I choose to flee. But I must decide if I have a duty here at home. My mother only ties me down a little. I could pay for her to stay anywhere with full time care. No, I must decide if I am prepared for treating battle wounds."

Healer Kayson gave her a grave look.

"Be assured that running away is probably not an option, but just a fantasy I am willing to entertain while I grieve for my father. And I want to say something to you too about this war. As an emergency healer in the most capable British hospital, you must face the fact that your own limits will be tested, maybe as much as mine were today."

He looked quite uncomfortable at that.

Liz smiled. "Could we please get on with seeing to my father?"

"Oh. Right, I had one more question." He paused again, and when Liz lifted an eyebrow, he continued, "Why could I not heal your concussion with magic? We had to bring in a specialist in muggle medical knowledge."

Liz frowned. "If I answer, I would have to  _ obliviate _ your memory of it. I should probably eliminate what you already know. But it does warm my heart to know that British healers are becoming open to muggle techniques. I shall have to see if I can find Annie Foremann and tell her the good news. Ah, and perhaps for your chronic heart patient you should simply look into what the muggles call a  _ pacemaker _ . It could be just the answer you are looking for."

\------------------------------

That afternoon, Markus Althea passed away. Liz went home, without seeing her mother, and cried herself to sleep at an early hour.

She woke at 4am to a rumbling tummy. She still hadn't eaten since breakfast the day before.

"Lippy?"

"Yes, Mistress Lizzy?"

"I'm hungry. But my tummy hurts. Something easy to eat, please."

"Yes, Mistress. And Miss?"

"What is it, Lippy?"

"The professor is back."

"Oh. Breakfast for two, then. Please show him to the breakfast table."

As Lippy disappeared, Liz dragged herself out of bed. With a big yawn she slipped into the closet and went straight for the formal wear. The stiff, beautiful clothes would make her feel better, much as the formal greetings tipped perceived balances yesterday and put her in the right frame of mind to give orders. As she browsed the selection she wondered at the potential culture shock of certain outfits. There was no sense anymore, she figured, in hiding her worldliness. Liz selected a sky blue silk kimono with swirling white clouds decorating the bottom hem, as well as the appropriate undergarments and geta sandals. She took great care with the spells that assisted wrapping and tying the kimono, and then frowned at the shoes.

"I was never quite graceful enough in you," she said, shaking a fist at them. "Luckily I will only have to wear you if I go out." And Liz was going to do her damnedest to stay in her house today.

After spending a few minutes primping with swept back hair and a quick dusting of makeup, Liz was finally ready. She crept down the stairs in her socked feet and peered into the breakfast nook. Snape was standing at the window with his back to her.

Seeing Snape standing calmly in her house made a mix of emotions course through her. She felt an urge to strike him, which she tamped down quickly.

"Professor Snape," she said, stepping in, "to what do I owe this early pleasure?" He did not answer, but they exchanged the same formal greeting from yesterday, with Snape's eyes lingering on her attire. That was the idea, after all. Liz looked at the breakfast table and frowned. "Now this won't do at all." She transfigured the chairs into cushions and lowered the table. "Much better. Would you care to join me for a bite? I have not eaten in more than a day."

Without waiting for a response, Liz carefully lowered herself to a cushion. Snape took the one opposite. Once they were both seated Liz took a good look at him.

And he looked terrible.

"Professor? Have you been here, awake all night? Gods, man, you could have slept a little. I was certainly too distraught to go anywhere. I don't know for sure your role in all this but I'd suppose you could shut your eyes just a moment."

"Not at all, Healer Althea."

His normally fluid voice was gravelly, so Liz poured him a cup of tea.

Several sips later, he said, "My mission is multi-faceted. My initial purpose was to witness your skill. I only knew as much as I told you, and that I was permitted to help at your request, but I am also now under the impression that I am the first man in this country to see you do such amazing work."

Liz did not grant him either confirmation or denial. She simply nibbled on buttery toast and waited for him to continue.

"I was also responsible for holding the wards, though Lippy was kind enough to take the bulk of the load. All interested parties wish to keep your privacy until you decide your next move, or have it decided for you." Liz and Snape sipped their tea, and Liz used honey to sweeten the oatmeal that appeared before her as Snape continued. "Another part of my presence is to prevent your escape. The Dark Lord feels he has already invested a great deal into you and would rather not waste more resources to hunt you down. That is not to say he wouldn't. I must insist, Miss Althea, that you do not think of running away. Even if you manage to give me the slip, you will most certainly be found."

Liz smiled and swallowed her first tiny spoonful. Thankfully her body seemed to welcome it, and she was able to keep it down with no discomfort. Snape seemed to be waiting for her to promise not to flee, so she said, "Eventually I would be found, yes. But I think everyone is underestimating me a little. Sure, my healing skill may have in fact been overestimated, but I have other talents, a wide range of friends around the world, and plenty of resources at my disposal. But of course you are right. Eventually I would be found and would pay dearly for wasting the Dark Lord's time and efforts. You were saying, about your mission?"

Snape paused briefly while Liz ate a few more bites of oatmeal and toast, her appetite slowly gearing up for a full meal. "Headmaster Dumbledore insisted you should not be left alone, but of course it is too dangerous to allow your friends to visit." He handed her a stack of parchments. "Letters from them, in their stead."

"And you."

"And me."

"I'm sorry that both of your masters require you to babysit me. I can take care of myself, but I do appreciate your efforts on the wards through the night."

Snape gave a sort of half-shrug as he continued to sip tea. It was inelegant, which unnerved Liz. Perhaps he could sense her discomfort, for he explained, "Both sides know you are a valuable witch and they both prefer not to have a battle over you before you make your loyalties known. I was a convenient choice -- one man to represent both sides means less risk."

"And someone I know would certainly frighten me less. Given what happened yesterday, sending a stranger to me would be an extreme risk indeed. I must admit, Professor, I find your familiar face and suddenly-impeccable manners comforting, despite my occasional urge to lash out at you. There are moments when it takes every ounce of my concentration to direct my anger and grief elsewhere, since you are the closest and easiest target."

Liz finished her cup and poured herself another, wondering just how quickly she'd be hunted down and punished if she dared report to law enforcement. She didn't actually know anyone at M.L.E. or the Aurory, and after experiencing healthcare bureaucracy, she wasn't about to trust her own safety to some random intake processor at the Ministry. Nope. She was stuck with Snape, and with this thought, she viciously tore the last of her toast in half with her teeth.

After chewing and swallowing, she sighed and continued, "As far as making my loyalties known... Do I have to choose a clear side? Your own position and role here with me makes a statement that acknowledges a potential for sharing, and I will insist on indiscriminate healing. If a man lies dying before me, I do not care if he is a dark wizard, Dumbledore's man, Ministry drone, or any other affiliation. I will heal the sick and wounded. That's what I do."

A long silence followed this speech, and Liz and Snape nibbled a little more. Liz did not need much more before she felt exhaustion creeping back in.

"Professor," she said, pushing her half-empty bowl away, "It is time to rest. We both need it. I will show you the guest room."

He seemed about to protest, but Liz would have none of it.

"Now see here, I'm the True Healer and I know the many signs of exhaustion. You've been showing them since at least February, when I had reason to notice, and there will be no further illness or injury on account of me. Besides, we are supposed to be on holiday from school. You can go to bed on your own in the guest room or I will put another bed into  _ my  _ room and watch you rest myself until I cannot any longer."

Snape chose the guest room.

Liz was rather pleased at herself for bullying him instead of hexing him.

Several hours later, Liz woke from the tense feeling of a nightmare. She was sure she could hear her mother screaming, but the sound was coming from Liz's own throat. As she grew aware of her surroundings and remembered the passing of her father, Liz didn't bother to stop screaming. She let herself go, and it didn't take long for her anguished cries to break down into gasping and sobbing, great big tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.

Lippy appeared soon after, her own large eyes a little red-rimmed, and she and Liz held each other, both openly weeping, until Liz passed out.

She was groggy when she woke again, and she felt sick. Lippy appeared, as if she had been waiting for Liz to rise, and served her a meal in bed. A very large glass of water perched on the tray, and Liz transfigured it to a safety cup, with a lid and a straw, before tucking it between her own body and her pillows.

Under her plate was a sheaf of parchment and the new day's _Daily Prophet_. The plain parchment caught her attention first. She recognized Professor Snape's spiky handwriting from six years of red ink on her essays.

_ Healer Althea, _

_ The fireplace has been connected to Healer Kayson's office at St. Mungo's so that you may visit your mother. Do not try to go anywhere else or leave by any other means. I have my own business to attend, and I will be most displeased with you if you interrupt that business with foolish decisions.  _

_ Busy yourself with activities as close to normal as possible. Consider it homework, and be prepared to report on it when I return. That should be tomorrow morning. _

_ SS _

Ugh. It was essentially house arrest, but not entirely unexpected. And she most certainly had things she needed to do. First up was a bath. She spent a great deal of time primping, listening to a Smashing Pumpkins album for nearly an hour while she relished in the care of her own body. Her life seemed to be spiraling out of control, but she could take ownership of her person.

As she bathed, she considered what she might do that could be reported to Professor Snape, and she decided that she would learn to play all the instruments on another song and key the charms for her instruments so that she could perform it as a one-man band. He didn't get to see her show the other night, so maybe she'd put on a costume and literally jazz up her report.

Her smirk faded as she realized that she shouldn't wait any longer to see her mother. If she needed an out, then lunch would be a good excuse, and that excuse would disappear in about two hours.

So she quickly donned a stretchy gray dress over black leggings, and she picked up the floo powder that Snape had left for her on the fireplace mantle. It was time to face reality.

\------------------------------

Healer Kayson was in his office when Liz arrived. Looking up from his desk, he flashed her a big grin. "Miss Althea, welcome back. Let me just finish the thought I am writing, and I will take you straight to your mother." A moment later, as they walked, Healer Kayson said, "You were right, you know, about the pacemaker. It's perfect for my patient."

Liz smiled as warmly as she could. "I'm glad to hear it."

"You know, you should really consider an internship here if you are available this summer."

Liz stopped in her tracks. "Would I be working with you?"

"We could arrange that, if you like."

She tried to put on a smile for him, but his face swam in front of her, and she felt a little faint.

Strong hands gripped her shoulders. "Take a deep breath, sweetheart. There you go. Maybe you should see your mother and then make that decision later."

Liz nodded slowly. It sounded sensible enough. Healer Kayson released one shoulder and slid his other hand down to her elbow, tugging her along.

Finally they reached a locked door. As Healer Kayson fiddled with his keys, he said, "Your mother has been doing much better. We no longer have to sedate her. You might even get a conversation out of her. This morning on my rounds she was telling me that her little girl wants to be a rock star, but there are more important things she will do with her life."

Liz choked back a sob.

"I'm sorry. I only tell you this because it was such a clear moment of lucidity that we are recording the audio in her room -- with a charm I believe we are licensing from your own patent." His eyes twinkled a bit at this, and Liz fought an urge to be sick. "A therapist will be in to review the sounds and see her later today."

Liz nodded, finally finding her voice. "Have you allowed her to perform any magic?"

"Actually, yes. We gave her some very controlled conditions, and she could not get any spells to work. Not even a spark. Here you go," he said, unlocking the door. "When you are finished, just wait outside this door and I will come to lock it back up." He transfigured a comfortable-looking armchair in the empty space of the corridor.

"Thanks," was all she could say.

When Liz entered the room, Sila's back was turned to her, and she was splotching many colors of magically mess-free paint onto one of the room's four stark-white walls. When the door clicked shut behind Liz, Sila jumped. She turned an accusing expression Liz's direction and gripped her color palette tightly.

"They said I could paint this wall!" she shrieked. "You can't take it away!"

"It's all right," Liz said, as calmly as she could. "I don't want to take anything away. I just want to look."

Sila said nothing, but she stared at Liz as Liz approached. It was a vacant, unseeing look in Sila's eyes. It was the same broken look that Liz had seen before, like she was looking inward and fighting mental battles that only she could see. The only bright side was her apparent awareness of Liz and whoever  _ they _ were, which suggested that maybe Sila could recover on her own, in her own time.

Then Liz wondered if her mother was even aware of what she was doing to the wall, or if mother truly recognized daughter. Liz could feel her lip tremble. "Mum, it's me."

Sila squinted but said nothing, and Liz held back on the verge of tears. She needed answers from her mother very quickly, and she really wasn't sure what to ask, knowing that they were being recorded. She suddenly wished Snape could help her form the right questions, wondering if she could really trust him with the answers Sila might provide, or that she herself might slip, simply by asking for assistance. One of the questions Liz wanted answered was whether there was anyone she could totally trust, the way she trusted her parents. And, frankly, she could have used some of her mother's comfort right now. Liz held out her arms, open as if inviting a hug. When her mum did not move, Liz steeled herself for some emotional detachment and repositioned her arms in front of her in the formal witchmaiden's greeting.

To this, Sila finally responded, carefully setting down her painting tools and gripping Liz's hands briefly in the formal witch's greeting.

With a broken heart, Liz called upon her knowledge of aristocratic manners, and she said, "Mistress Althea, thank you for seeing me."

"Sunrise will come again, child. I can help you on your journey, but you need to wait for the dawn. Right now, I am very busy." Sila then turned away from Liz, back toward the painted wall. "As you can see, something is missing. Come back tomorrow, if you can. May the moonlight guide your nightly journeys."

And with that, Liz was dismissed. But she lingered, burning the image on the wall into her memory, and locking it deep, deep down. Most of the wall was covered in large swathes of shimmering glitter, but in less shiny-looking silver color, she had etched a thin few lines, vaguely looking like a letter S swooping from the bottom of a capital letter D. Once Liz was sure she'd remember it accurately, she turned and left.

Outside the room, Liz glared down at the chair Jason Kayson had conjured for her. She allowed herself to feel some anger that the best healers of St. Mungo's could not handle what was happening to Sila. But then Liz calmed herself, transfigured the chair to a low, square bench, and sat down cross-legged. She closed her eyes, breathed deep, and reminded herself that her mother's condition was not any healer's fault but her own.

She also remembered something Sila had said, in one of the rare instances that she spoke of the Dark Lord's first reign. Something about not leaving behind survivors, except to send a message.

The sudden calm Liz felt through her guilt allowed her to follow a new tangent, because, well, maybe her mother was perfectly fine, and was prepared to act insane to get her messages safely. But, that look in her eyes, in that case, was one hell of an act. And if so, there were probably two messages, neither of which Liz understood fully. First, obviously, was the image on the wall, but Liz nearly cried at the strange notion that she had seen it before but could not remember where exactly. She had honed her memory rather well over the years abroad and in school, but now, when it really mattered, she was drawing a blank.

The other message could be in the handful of words Sila spoke. Wait a day. But wait a day for what? Liz's anger nearly crept back, thinking of the sun-moon cult that her mother had fallen into in Ethiopia. Sunrise and moonlight. Would she have to find some bloody way to Ethiopia to solve this? And even if she got there, she had no idea how to contact the Moon Priestess, as Liz was fourteen and terrified the last time she saw her.

"Miss Althea?" Someone was interrupting her thoughts. "Finished already?" Ah, it was Healer Kayson.

Liz sighed and opened her eyes. "I suppose it has only been 10 or 15 minutes?" she asked.

Healer Kayson nodded.

Liz stared at the floor. Then she rose from her seat. "Yes. I'm finished. I'd like to receive daily copies of the recordings in this room." When she did not get an immediate answer, Liz looked up again and asked, "Problem?"

A kind but sad look came across Healer Kayson's face. He held out his arm, to escort her back to his office, and she took it. As they began walking, he said, "I'm sorry, Miss Althea. Your mother was once admitted before, and you were a minor, so your father was the first contact, and then your uncle. Now we are required, by law, to allow four more days for Ashley Avery to respond to our message, before we can replace his name with yours and release any official records."

Normally Liz could calm herself with a single deep breath, but this time it took three particularly deep ones. She didn't even know that she had an uncle Avery, let alone that he was the family patriarch. "I see," was what she finally said. "I shall discuss this with my mother's solicitor -- perhaps she made some arrangement outside of these old records."

Apparently Healer Kayson agreed. "Many purebloods do, as a safeguard against the twisted politics of Old Blood and Ministry power. It's really very strange that Master Avery has not yet come forward to exercise his power in this matter."

By now they had returned, and Liz gazed sadly at the fireplace, preparing herself mentally to return home again without her parents.

"Miss Althea?" Healer Kayson asked.

When she looked up, Liz realized her vision was blurry from tears. With a great sniff and a shake of her head, she said, "I prefer Liz, if you please."

She had not released Healer Kayson's arm, and the man put his free hand over hers in the crook of his elbow. He gave her a grin. "Short for your middle name. Very nice. Well, Liz, please call me Jason. I am not on duty again until next week, first thing Monday morning. If you get good news from the solicitor before then, just bring the appropriate documents to the secretary on this floor, Missus Hewitt, and she can help you take care of it."

Liz graced Jason with a smile that almost reached her eyes. "Thank you," she said, sincerely. "I'll be in touch."

"Good bye, Liz."

"Good bye, Jason."

When Liz got back home, she was dismayed to find that she was still an hour early for lunch. After drafting a quick letter to Werner Schwarz requesting an appointment, she wasn't sure what to do with herself. She needed a distraction, and she went to find it in the cellar. She cleaned up the mess from her and Snape's rough handling of supplies and equipment. Her bag from the other night had been placed carefully on the workbench. Snape had probably brought it back, but it looked like it had spilled out, probably at the pub.

She did not begin a new distillation of dittany. She did not inventory her lost supplies. In fact, with a rather horrible sense of foreboding, she cleaned up the whole room, putting away every project and stowing the remaining good supplies in the bag.

When she brought the bag up and locked the cellar behind her, an early lunch was ready.

Liz ate her beef stew and crusty bread mechanically. Normally she enjoyed her food immensely, one of the few true pleasures in her life. But today she was trying to keep herself distracted, and at this moment she was mentally cataloging songs that she knew but hadn't learned all the parts.

By the time she was finished eating, she had decided. Secluding herself in her room, Liz shoved all the furniture to the side and set out her instruments. This song would take a lot of energy, so she put on a satin slip of a nightgown to keep cool while she rocked out. She practiced over and over again, playing, crying, singing, and screaming out her grief for the father she lost and the mother she may as well have lost.

_ "My Lovely man" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers _

_ I used to shout across the room to you  
_ _ And you'd come dancin' like a fool  
_ _ Shuffle step you funky mother  
_ _ Come to me all warm as covers _

_ Rest with me, my lovely brother  
_ _ For you see there is no other  
_ _ Memory so sad and sweet  
_ _ I'll see you soon, save me a seat _

_ Well I'm cryin' now my lovely man  
_ _ Yes I'm cryin' now and no one can  
_ _ Ever fill the, the hole you left my man  
_ _ I'll see you later, my lovely man if I can _

_ In my room I'm all alone  
_ _ Waiting for you to get home  
_ _ Listen to Roberta Flack  
_ _ But I know you won't come back _

_ Well I'm cryin' now my lovely man  
_ _ I'll see you later, my lovely man if I can _

_ Just in case you never knew  
_ _ I miss you slim, I love you too  
_ _ See my heart, it's black and blue  
_ _ When I die I will find you _

_ Well I'm cryin' now my lovely man  
_ _ Yes I'm cryin' now and no one can  
_ _ Ever fill the, the hole you left my man  
_ _ I'll see you later, my lovely man if I can _

_ Well I'm cryin' my lovely man  
_ __ Well I'm cryin' my lovely man  
_ I'll see you later, my lovely man  
_ __ We had some good times, my lovely man

\------------------------------

Several hours later, Liz woke from where she passed out on the bed, to a knock on her door. "Miss Althea!" It was Snape, and he kept knocking, louder and louder. "Miss Althea, we have matters to discuss that cannot be delayed."

After a short pause she could hear Snape calling for Lippy, and a moment later Lippy appeared. "Mistress, the professor is meaning it. He is sounding angry and nervous. Mistress gets out of bed now."

"Fine. What time is it?"

"Past five."

"Thank you Lippy." Liz quickly straightened out the twisted little nightgown she wore and opened the door. With hardly a glance at Snape she beckoned him in, said "Then let's discuss while I get dressed if it's so urgent," and then stepped into the closet to select her next outfit for the day. "I assume you are capable of speaking so that I can hear you," she said over her shoulder.

She didn't have to watch him to imagine the glare. "Miss Althea, it has waited this long I suppose it could wait one more minute."

"Oh no," she insisted, taking her time with browsing her wardrobe and enjoying these opportunities to push Snape around a little, "It was so important you had to nearly bring down my door and scare my dear Lippy and you are just going to spit out what's so important that it cannot be delayed." Liz focused her search on corseted dress robes.

After a short pause, Snape said lamely, "You have been summoned."

And it stopped Liz dead in her tracks. She gulped, grabbed a navy-colored garment from the rack in front of her. She donned the dress robe loosely and emerged from the closet. "Lippy?"

When Lippy appeared, she knew what to do. Liz kneeled along the bed so Lippy could tighten the corset.

The question was obvious in Snape's face. Liz answered the unspoken query, "It is too dangerous to use magic to tighten a corset. They are already designed to constrict the wearer. Slightly too much strength or wrong emphasis in the spell and she bruises her ribs, or even suffocates."

When Lippy was finished, she disappeared again, and Liz sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. She sighed and stared at the floor. "Are we leaving now?"

"I believe we have about two hours to spare, and we should use them to prepare." He paused, and Liz schooled her face carefully and cleared her mind. He was trying to read her somehow, and she was sure she didn't like it. At school she could simply look away and avoid eye contact. She did not have that luxury now. He continued, "If your determination for indiscriminate healing is unchanged, I recommend you only offer this point of view if pressed. It would otherwise be viewed as a challenge."

"I understand," she said evenly, trying to be grateful for the tip. There was a long silence that followed, and Liz felt uncomfortable prickles on the edge of her thoughts. He was attempting to read her again, a little more aggressively this time. "Oh no," she said slowly, and smiled as wicked a smile as she could muster. "I don't recommend digging in my mind, Professor Snape. I have had the good fortune of knowing a shaman who set up some impressive traps in there. He was his tribe's primary protector, and also a weaving healer who communed with spiders. Should you invade the privacy of my thoughts, I don't even know all the keys, all the safety strands which would release you from the tangled webs. So, I would advise against testing the limits the Trap Weaver set."

Liz let a short pause pass for effect.

"Is this where the phrase _The Dark Lord Knows All_ comes from? Should I warn him, too? You were very cautious, and I am guessing he would not be so. Should I tell him that destroying the traps destroys both the invader and myself? And even if he does manage to escape, he will still lose me in the process."

Snape was visibly reeling, but Liz felt no pleasure in the power, no satisfaction in holding any trump cards.

She took pity on him, turned her wicked smile to a sad frown, and changed the subject. "I want to tell you a story. It may be relevant to what is happening now, and it may not be. I don't know. But I have never told anyone else this story before. Mum doesn't even know all of it."

Snape seemed to have finally steeled himself, and he nodded. "But there is one more thing to consider first. Headmaster Dumbledore also wishes to have a meeting with you. He says his door is open any time."

Liz thought about the invitation carefully. It meant that she could choose whom to meet first. That's why it was so urgent for Snape to nearly knock down her door and get an answer. But in the end, the choice was clear. "The headmaster can wait for the morning. But I will write him a quick note thanking him for seeing me first thing tomorrow."

That finished and sent through the floo, Liz sank back onto the bed, folding her legs to sit comfortably, and patted the space next to her, inviting Snape to sit. She was very pleased when he complied.

Extracting her wand, Liz pointed it at the shelf above the foot of the bed, aiming carefully at the first music box. "Shuffle Playlist  _ Favorite Pink Floyd _ ." The first melody floated in the air. "Reduce volume 65 percent." The box obeyed. Liz relaxed. The music would soothe her, but it would be background noise at most during her story.

Snape sat silently, with an eyebrow raised.

Liz lifted her chin, daring him to belittle her. When the eyebrow lowered, she felt safe in starting. "Music was my first love. Music and my mum have kept me sane through my journeys. In the summer of 1993, I was fourteen years old. My travels for special training had already taken me to four continents, and I was quickly overcoming my fear of the unknown. I trusted my mother completely, and I stopped asking too many questions. And so, I found myself in Ethiopia, with a group of poor nomads, dumped off at the local clinic while mum fell in with a celestial cult."

A quiet  _ pop!  _ interrupted Liz, and Lippy appeared with a tea service.

"Thank you Lippy. You are welcome to stay for this story. I am sure you were listening anyway."

The little elf's ears burned a dull brownish-red, but she said nothing, and simply took a seat on the stool that Liz used while drumming.

Liz continued, "In the area, there were three little wizarding villages, and the clinic was between them, miles down a lonely highway that followed a ravine. While I spent nights learning from the Moon Priestess, I spent most of my days at the clinic, training with the strict head matron. There were an unusually high number of squibs in these villages, and she treated them with disdain. It was not the first time I witnessed that kind of discrimination, and it wasn't even the worst, really, but I was upset by it, and I butted heads with the matron more than once. It was no problem for a witch or wizard to get to this clinic for treatment, but when a squib managed to come in, I was impressed by their struggle and empathized well enough to heal them. Eventually, the matron of the clinic washed her hands of the squibs and left them all to me. And that suited me just fine.

"My early shifts finished at noon, and we stayed with the coven of the Moon Priestess. She was a True Healer, like me, and she consented to teach me some advanced rituals and potions. She taught me to walk the Grey Line of Intent. It was the closest I've come to performing dark magic."

Snape shifted, and she barreled on, not wanting the interruption. "I know, the traps in my mind are definitely dark, but I did not put them there myself. And yes, it made the temptations of the darkness much harder to resist, but honestly the Moon Priestess was a very good teacher, and she herself kept balanced with charity work for the squibs and muggles." She leaned forward for emphasis. "And that's how I met Semaki."

Liz paused here, sipping some tea. Black tea, sweetened with honey, just as Liz liked it. It soothed her throat, which was feeling quite raw.

"Semaki was just a little younger than me, but she didn't actually know her birthday, so we had to guess. As she was a squib, her parents were disappointed and neglectful. They clearly saw her as a burden, and she came to the coven every evening for a small meal and my company. We played games in the dirt, danced ourselves silly to the rock and roll tunes I had in these little music boxes, and I conjured little gifts for her, like ribbons that would last the next day in her hair. The Soap Bubble Charm was her favorite, and I made them enormous, bigger than ourselves. My wand sparked for her, and she tried very hard to learn some spells. I never before and never since had a friend like Semaki, a girl close to my own age, a girl who saw just as much suffering as I had, and yet she still squeezed the most good out of every day. One day, she managed to conjure her own ribbon, a bright red one, and she told me it was the happiest day of her life."

Liz gulped down the rest of her tea, anticipating the flood of emotions that would come with the next part of the story. She had practiced it in the mirror a few times in the last three years, and she was finally getting a chance to unload this burden on someone who might actually be able to help her. She pictured some steel in her backbone but didn't dare look at Snape or Lippy.

"That was just a few weeks after I met her... Just a few weeks with the best friend I ever had, and then..." Liz controlled her breathing very carefully and closed her eyes. "Semaki was raped violently. She was wearing nothing but the red ribbon when she was brought to the clinic in the arms of her father. He threw her roughly at a bed and then came over to me, backhanding me across the face. The rough translation charm I used got his point across, although I didn't understand half of what he bellowed at me. The bright red ribbon had attracted her attackers, and now I was responsible for fixing her.

"Then he left. He just left. The matron was gone to lunch. I was alone with Semaki. She was mercifully unconscious, and I healed her body. That part was relatively easy. But when I finished with that and attempted to rouse her, I was confused by the result. She stared, blankly, as if she wasn't seeing me or the clinic at all.

"I was crying over her when the matron returned. She took me to task, having already heard about Semaki. I tried to ask for help, but the matron was not interested. She told me I needed to see the Moon Priestess, and that I had better fix the girl before the next evening, as her new husband would be picking her up then."

Lippy squeaked, and Liz opened her leaking eyes. Her voice cracking, she continued, "The Moon Priestess was very calm when she explained that Semaki had probably been sold to her rapist, as payment for the dishonor she and I had brought on her family. The Priestess knew of only one way to bring back a broken witch. It was not likely to work, since Semaki was hardly a witch and her closest family would be unwilling to help. I tried anyway. I had to beg the Priestess to teach me the song, and I went back that night to the clinic. I sang for nearly twelve hours, calling to Semaki, praying to every god I'd ever heard of that I might get a response.

"But Semaki did not hear me. In those twelve hours I learned that she was still capable of eating, walking, and eliminating. I even managed to put her into a simple dress that I transfigured from a bedsheet. She was aware of her surroundings on some level, but she no longer recognized me, and I had to be careful not to provoke her. Touching her set her on edge, and my first attempt to manhandle her to the loo was met with violence. 

"When her rapist arrived to claim her, I tried to stand between them, to protect my friend. I got backhanded again, right through my admittedly weak  _ protego _ shield. I went down hard, banging my head on the foot of another bed." Liz carefully slid a hand through her hair, on her left-hand side, and peeled up a layer to show the scar, turning carefully so that both Snape and Lippy could see. "It's my reminder that I can't fix everything. When I woke, I didn't even try to heal it." She carefully patted her hair back down and returned her hands to her lap.

"Instead, I looked around the empty clinic, picked myself up, and ran. By the weak lights of dawn in the sky, I could not have been out long. I followed the road back toward Semaki's village, and I caught up with them. He was trying to hold her arm and haul her along, and she was putting up a good fight. When I got close enough, I pulled my wand and stunned him."

Liz blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She could do this. She could tell them. Lippy was a good elf, and always kept her secrets. And if her intuition was right about Snape, he might be able to help her construct the right questions for mum based on this story.

"Semaki did not even look at me. I was rooted to the spot, in sudden terror, as Semaki performed wandless, wordless magic." Liz raised her arms at this point, to mime the actions she saw Semaki take. "She levitated the bastard over the low railing on the side of the road, and tossed him into the ravine. I heard a sick  _ crunch _ when he hit the first rocks, and then a dull thud when he landed at the bottom. 

"I'm sure I was in shock by then. No wits about me at all. I vaguely remember thinking,  _ good, that fucker got what he deserved _ , but that thought was ripped away quickly when Semaki threw herself over the edge, too."

Liz took a deep, shuddering breath, and was surprised when she was gathered up in Snape's arms, and Lippy was there too, making a Liz-sandwich. She must have been working too hard to hold back the tears, because suddenly Liz was hiccupping and sobbing into Snape's robes. He didn't let go, and Lippy was rubbing small circles on her back and cooing. Liz only lost it for a minute, and then she shook her head and pulled back.

Wiping her face, Liz said, "No. I need -- hic! -- to finish. It's al -- hic! -- most over."

Snape passed her a plain white handkerchief. Liz twisted her face into a smile (hopefully it came out as a smile) and finished composing herself. The hiccups slowed enough to continue.

"I must have blacked out from the sheer horror of what happened. -- Hic! -- I don't remember the walk back to the coven. I do vaguely remember begging my mother to take me away, and how she was very reluctant to cut the visit short. And I remember when the Priestess came in, looking very grave, and she, too, told mum that we had better leave. Apparently, there was a search party out for Semaki and her rapist, and Semaki's parents were making sure everyone knew that the  _ English Girl  _ was involved.

"I never told anyone, not even mum, that I cast that stunner. No one would trace it back to me. But the whole coven knew that I was teaching Semaki magic. That was dangerous enough, and I think the Moon Priestess could sense my desperation. Eventually she suggested that both mum and I would be jailed or worse if we stayed, so finally mum was convinced that we should leave. The next day we were in Japan."

Liz fell silent, unsure if she should continue. For the moment, maybe, that was a good place to stop. For her purposes, there was no need to continue the tale. She had gained Snape's sympathy (surely an impressive feat), and she had set the stage for explaining her mother's condition and her own hangups about treating it.

To put a final thought on this tale, she said, "Until two days ago,  _ that _ was the worst day of my life." Then she looked toward Lippy. "I am not really feeling hungry, but maybe it's a good idea to eat a bite of supper?"

Lippy nodded once and disappeared.

Liz turned to Snape. "Join me in the dining room?" she asked, finally looking directly into his eyes.

And the pity she saw made her blush. That was the point, so she would accept his pity for now.

He nodded once and rose to leave. But he paused at the door. "For what it's worth, I know exactly what it's like to cast the stunner."

And with that, Liz was alone. She darted to the bathroom to freshen up, and realized she was cold. After using the loo, she went back to her closet and selected her finest fur-lined cloak and boots, which were black with silver trimming and went rather well with the navy-colored corseted dress robe she already wore. Then she flicked her wand to silence her music box and went downstairs.

Lippy had served a tray of roast beef sandwiches in the tea room.

When he saw her, Snape gave her a clinical but approving once-over. "That will do," he said.

She wondered if he meant to comfort her -- did he realize how important it was to her that she look her best? Or was he simply assuming that she should for the Dark Lord? Normally she would just ask, but she was afraid to do so now. She had bigger things to worry about than his motives about such a simple statement.

He waited for her to sit down before doing so himself. Then he waited for her to select a sandwich and begin eating before he spoke. "We will apparate to a secure location on the grounds of the Malfoy estate, and then we will go inside the Manor. Greet the Dark Lord with a low bow or curtsey. Do not speak until you are required to. Whatever you do, do not lie. Even if the Dark Lord refrains from browsing your mind, he can still tell if you are outright false."

Liz nodded and nibbled.

"Miss Althea, I do not want you to be off your guard, but you should be assured, you have already been tested, and though there may be more tests, if he found your performance unworthy he would not be honoring you with his presence."

Liz's heart was pounding. She really was not reassured at all.

"I will admit," he breathed, a little coarsely, "I do not know what the Dark Lord wants with you, and I will do my best to help you, but you need to make your own choices. There is a very good possibility that you will be asked to heal certain ailments among the Death Eaters. Are you still convinced that you will heal the sick and wounded, no matter who they are or to whom they belong?"

The question actually calmed Liz down considerably. It steeled her nerves to know that there was still one thing about her that would not bend, no matter how afraid she might be. "Of course," she said. "I would never deny relief to those who suffer. If it is within my power, then I will heal them."

"Good. Then when you are finished eating, we should leave."

Liz quickly ate two more bites, took a long sip of water, and stood.

Snape came around the table and stood very close to her. "Miss Althea, you are doing very well to calm your fear without suppressing it. I suggest you continue to do so. The Dark Lord becomes frustrated easily with both those who show no fear and with those who cannot function through their fear."

He was so close that Liz had to tilt her chin up a little to look him in the eyes. Those black eyes were very serious indeed, but they also held a warmth she would never have expected.

"I see now, that you are very special indeed. He knows this, and he will try to recruit you. Use this to your advantage. Use it to help you get through this unharmed."

Liz gasped a little in surprise when Snape brought up a hand to cup her cheek. He seemed about to say something, but reconsidered. He just stood there a moment, glancing between her eyes and his hand.

She wondered if she should take this chance to turn the tables and attempt a read on his aura, but as soon as the question came up in her mind, he lowered his hand and broke skin contact that would have allowed easy access. She said, "I am grateful to have you as a guide. I am ready."

He offered his arm as he had before. She grasped it firmly, and they disappeared together.


	4. Well, No One Knows; Where Our Secrets Go

#  P1Ch4 Playlist

  * Title track: "Mayonaise" by The Smashing Pumpkins 1993
  * "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden 1994



Chapter 4 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2CvLk5HYr52jIqdI2Gtros>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 4: Well, No One Knows; Where Our Secrets Go

Malfoy Manor was an imposing place, but Liz had little time to drink it in. She barely caught a whiff of the light floral scent of the gardens before she was quickly ushered to the door, through the great hall, and to an intricate French door.

Just before knocking, Snape produced a mask from within his cloak. His Death Eater's mask. That's when Liz finally realized, she was really here. She was about to meet the most dangerous wizard of their time. She didn't know what all he wanted with her, and she was scared.

"Come," said a voice from within, a voice that sent chills down Liz's spine.

Snape pushed the door open and, now masked, gestured for Liz to precede him.

She held her chin very straight and stepped lightly. The grand dining table was occupied near one end by a half-dozen people in masks. A dark mound at the other end gave Liz a strange vibe, like a dark aura. A dark figure with an even more powerful aura loomed in a chair at the head of the table. Liz approached on his left side, with Snape trailing behind her just a few feet, and she got her first look at the greatest dark wizard alive.

But, Liz could tell that "alive" was not quite the right word. As she curtsied, low as she could, she considered the dark vibe that flowed off him in waves, so strong she didn't even have to touch him. His soul was torn, shredded even. She knew that he had done unspeakable, evil things, but was this soul-ripping a cause or an effect? She quickly schooled her thoughts when the Dark Lord spoke.

"Be seated. You are an honored guessst tonight."

This did not comfort her. Snape took her by the elbow and steered her toward the empty seat on the Dark Lord's right side, and he took the other empty seat next to hers.

"Severusss," the Dark Lord hissed slowly, "I will have your report now."

From behind the menacing mask, Liz heard Snape's silky voice. "My Lord, I would like to begin by commending you for finding such a valuable prize. Healer Althea's power is greater than many wizards her age and more impressive than some much older."

A scoffing sound came from another masked figure at the table.

"It is all right, Avery," said the Dark Lord, and Liz gave a little start. That was probably her mother's brother. She did not have time to contemplate the unknown half of her family tree before the Dark Lord continued, "Having had this prize was under his nose for sssix years, I'm sure Severusss will get to the point immediately."

Smoothly ignoring the danger in that statement, Snape said, "Of course, my Lord. Healer Althea met me in the tea room at her home and initiated conversation with the pleasantries of a hostess. Despite her mother's ostracism from pureblood society, she is obviously schooled in the social graces. However, when it became clear to her that this was a serious matter, she began giving orders for me to assist her. She can take command of any situation.”

As Snape spoke, Liz snuck glances at the other end of the table. The mound did not move, but it did open its eyes to look right at her. Yikes, it was a great serpent. While not the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen, any snake that size was bound to be deadly, and she froze for a minute, staring. Then Liz tore her gaze away and forced herself to pay attention to Snape.

He was saying, "She has a potions lab in her home, which is set up to handle several healing brews at once and store many supplies. She efficiently selected a few to take with her to the site. When we arrived, she only had a few seconds' panic before getting straight to work. I have seen much greater wizards than her succumb to panic in the face of their family's suffering.

"She knows a variety of healing spells, and she proved that she can improvise by creating the device that kept her father's heart beating. I am not familiar with the kind of magic she used to initially increase the blood supply and pump the life force back into him."

"Then," said the Dark Lord, "we should watch thisss moment." He waved his wand and a shiny silver screen appeared on the wall across from Liz. Another word from the Dark Lord brought a jumble of pictures to that screen, slowing and becoming coherent around the scene of the Raven Witch in ruins. As soon as Liz realized that they were watching her save her father's life, from the view of Snape's very own eyes, she refused to watch, instead staring down at the table. Hearing it was difficult enough.

A few moments later, it was obvious that the memory was finished, and she dared to raise her gaze to the Dark Lord's face.

He said, "It isss true. You heal with your very hands. And yet, Healer Althea, I have heard that you intentionally allowed your father to die yesssterday. Tell me, why did you do thisss?"

Liz hesitated for just a second, stalling by taking a deep breath. Did the Dark Lord know his own soul was in shreds? Is that why he wanted her unique healing powers? Maybe if she could word it just right... "Well, he was just too destroyed. His brain was damaged beyond repair." She gulped to buy herself more time as she carefully chose each word. "Though I could keep his biology functioning, I could not recall his missing soul."

He snarled at her, withdrawing his wand and hissing a spell.

Liz could feel her eyes rolling back in her skull, and she tried to say "NO!" as the world in front of her turned to mist. She could feel him pushing at the front-most barriers of her mind, and then she felt herself falling. She knew what lay below them. They would both fall into the first web. She could save them both if he was not pushing forward, but she couldn't resist his advance. He was far too strong. If he broke through the first web, they would both be trapped in the second, and she could not get them out after that. And if he continued to press, they would both lose their sanity in the complex traps below.

"My Lord, I must urge caution." That was Snape's voice, reaching to them from beyond the mist.

And apparently the greatest dark wizard in existence was not too proud and not too confident to ignore this advice. Their descent slowed, until Liz and the Dark Lord were floating a mere few feet above the first web. He eyed it suspiciously.

Snape continued, "I believe you recognize the Mists of Mind, and Healer Althea's barriers go much deeper, using primitive magicks I would not dare to test without study."

Liz cleared her throat as best she could. She hated the throaty, mysterious quality her own voice took in her mind. "I can still get us out of here if we turn back now," she said, extending her left hand.

The Dark Lord eyed her suspiciously before grasping that hand with his right. Liz reached upward with her other hand and asked, "Professor, are you still with our bodies?"

"Yes."

"Good. That makes this easier. Take my right hand and pull it quickly upward."

Though she could not see him here in the mists, Liz felt Snape's grip on her hand. Then she slammed back into the normal plane of existence, and Snape caught her before she could fall out of her chair. Once steadied, Snape did not let go of his grip on her hand.

Liz took a quick glance around. All faces were turned toward her, but hidden behind masks. The Dark Lord had not stumbled when returning to the real world, and he was unreadable in his expression. When he finally spoke, it was with a kind of unnerving calm that set Liz's teeth on edge.

"Again, I am impresssed. Rare magicks are rather special to me, and you are quite full of them, aren't you?" Before Liz could answer, he continued, "Perhapsss I need to see everything." He turned toward Snape, and without warning said out loud, " _ Legilimens _ ."

Snape's grip slacked, but Liz held his hand tightly. It was obvious that the Dark Lord was rooting through his memories again, much more brutally than before. "Oh," he said, after a few moments, "that is very entertaining." He sounded like it was rather not, but he directed his wand to the silver screen and allowed everyone to see what was so funny while he continued to search Snape's mind for the information he desired.

It was a blurry scene at The Raven Witch. Liz's jaw dropped. When had he been there while the bar was fine? But when she saw herself on stage, and the blur at the corners, the posters behind her still singed from the damage, she knew it was a dream. Her hair was much longer, let down in waves, and she was wearing a glittering green kimono that Liz was sure she didn't actually own. And she was dancing a rather seductive little hip-swaying dance.

How humiliating for Snape! He must have had this dream during their after-breakfast nap the previous day, and it was her fault that it was being put on display for the likes of Death Eaters and the Dark Lord. She sent her most helpless glance toward the Dark Lord, who ignored her in his pursuits with Snape.

So she watched, as dream-Liz danced, stepping down off the stage and closing the distance between her and dream-Snape. And the real Snape was fidgeting beside her. When the dream figures were just inches apart, the scene vanished, and Liz breathed a sigh of relief.

Several dissatisfied sounds came from the crowd. The Dark Lord seemed to be done with Snape, and he said, "Too bad, then."

Liz smiled, feeling a little relief, as if it was all almost over.

The Dark Lord saw this and grew agitated. "Do not look so pleased with yourself, Healer Althea. We will find all of your secretsss in time. Maybe a little pain would have you ssspill all of them."

"Allow me, My Lord," came a raspy female voice directly across the table from Liz.

Liz steeled herself. She had heard stories of the Dark Lord's and his Death Eaters' reliance on the Cruciatus Curse for control. She was afraid, but she would not yield. Besides, she wasn't sure what her natural healing ability would do when confronted with pure pain.

And perhaps the Dark Lord did not either. He said, "But maybe it would be more effective to hurt someone elssse. Severus, maybe?"

She could not help but glance at him with panic. Snape had been, for whatever reasons, the only person Liz could count on these last few days. She wasn't sure what they really meant to each other, but she knew she would not stand for his suffering very long.

The Dark Lord smiled a twisted, sinister smile. "Yesss, Healer Althea, and I can be much more creative to encourage you to divulge your sssecrets. Think about that as you figure out what your parents have left for you. We will have to chat again privately sssoon. Now, before you go, maybe you can indulge us all with a performance. One of mine was in the audience at The Raven Witch the other night, and she tellsss me it was excellent entertainment."

Liz knew better than to take this as just a request, and she relished the opportunity to make a performance she had very carefully prepared, knowing this moment would one day come. "Certainly, my Lord." There were a few gasps around the table at her nerve to call him by their endearment for him, but he did not react. "I know just the song." She let go of Snape's hand, allowing herself a moment of surprise that she was still holding it. "I'll ask the Malfoys to forgive me if I scuff this fine table." Then she used her chair as a stepping stool to get up onto the table. From a pocket in her cloak, she retrieved a small music box, and then discarded her cloak in her vacated chair. “I also do not wish to disturb the incredible creature already occupying the only stage available...”

The Dark Lord hesitated only a fraction of a second before saying, “Nagini, come.”

Already on the table, Liz could only stand statue-still as the enormous snake slid past her, dropped off the table next to the Dark Lord, and coiled again at his feet. She bowed in thanks and took position so that she could see her whole audience before she began.

With a snap of her fingers, the music box levitated, and sound came out, and Liz prepared to sing and dance in the most depressing and mysterious styles she could handle, adding subtle and dark special effects with light and shadow, thunder, and illusions. She had stripped the track of its vocals so that she could add her own in real time. It was an experimental new bit of magic, and she would honor the Dark Lord with the first live performance of it.

_ "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden _

_ In my eyes, indisposed  
_ _ In disguises no one knows  
_ _ Hides the face, lies the snake  
_ _ The sun in my disgrace _

_ Boiling heat, summer stench  
_ _ 'Neath the black the sky looks dead  
_ _ Call my name through the cream  
_ _ And I'll hear you scream again _

_ Black hole sun, won't you come  
_ _ And wash away the rain?  
_ _ Black hole sun, won't you come?  
_ _ Won't you come? _

_ Stuttering, cold and damp  
_ _ Steal the warm wind tired friend  
_ _ Times are gone for honest men  
_ _ And sometimes far too long for snakes _

_ In my shoes, a walking sleep  
_ _ And my youth I pray to keep  
_ _ Heaven send Hell away  
_ _ No one sings like you anymore _

_ Black hole sun, won't you come  
_ _ And wash away the rain?  
_ _ Black hole sun, won't you come?  
_ _ Won't you come? _

_ Black hole sun! Black hole sun! _

_ Hang my head, drown my fear  
_ _ Til you all just disappear _

_ Black hole sun, won't you come  
_ _ And wash away the rain?  
_ _ Black hole sun, won't you come?  
_ _ Won't you come? _

_ Black hole sun! Black hole sun! _

_ Black hole sun, won't you come?  
_ _ Won't you come? _

The Dark Lord's slow clap was ominous at best. The Death Eaters had slightly more open reactions, from Avery offering genuine applause to the silent stillness of the raspy-voiced woman. Finally the Dark Lord said simply, "You may go now."

\------------------------------

Snape took Liz straight home. He tried to send her to bed, but she had messages waiting, and they wound up having tea and biscuits together. First, Liz opened the post from Werner Schwarz. "Excellent," Liz said, finally pleased with something that happened this day. "My mother's solicitor has invited me to pop in at his office any time. I shall do so tomorrow." The second message was a thick stack of parchments that Liz eventually recognized as the paperwork for an internship at St. Mungo's. She folded them up and stowed them in a hidden pocket of her cloak.

Finally, teacup in hand, Liz rose and pressed a button near the flashing light on the muggle phone's answering machine. "You have one new message," a cold female voice declared.

Then another cold female voice began. "Penny Liz, I will be there in two days to discuss the handling of my poor baby's remains and belongings." Liz dropped her teacup, which shattered on the floor, and she didn't hear the rest of the message.

Lippy and Snape were both at her side. In her peripheral vision, Liz saw Lippy cleaning up the cup, and Snape gently pulled her down into a chair. "Explain," he barked.

When Liz was finished shaking, she said, very slowly, "Grandmother Althea is a muggle with a mean streak. I'm told that my parents were quite destitute for several years after mum was disowned for marrying a muggle-born. So, when I was born, Grandmother Althea quickly attached the nickname 'Penny Liz' as you heard it just now, with a hissing 'zed' that sounds like an 'ess,' and I've known it for its derision since before I can remember. I have not seen her in nearly five years. Obviously she still calls me that, even though she has known for some time that we were doing much better for ourselves. Honestly, right now, I'd rather see the Dark Lord again."

Snape raised one eyebrow.

Liz ignored him and sighed. "Tomorrow's schedule just got even more hectic. I'm going to ask Herr Schwartz to sell this house, and I'm going to move out before that cunt arrives."

"You could ward the house against her."

Liz shook her head and stared at the floor. "She'll call the police. She's done it before. I don't need that ruckus in my  _ muggle _ neighborhood right now. No, what I need is to sever all ties with her. Sometimes, that's all you can do to keep the peace."

"Sometimes there is no peace."

She looked up, and she couldn't read his expression. His eyes were tired, but they locked to hers, and she felt him brushing at the edges of her mind again. Liz looked away, reaching for the teapot and pouring herself a fresh cup. After enjoying her first sip of hot mint tea, Liz started again, all business. "I want to ask for your opinion about my performance. The song on the table, I mean. Since the Dark Lord merely dismissed us afterward, any insight you can offer is most appreciated."

He gave her a strange look, and Liz guessed he was assessing whether or not to go along with this direction in the conversation. Then he said, "Yes, I would say, most importantly, that you chose the song well. It was dark and brooding and open to interpretation. The vague mood and references to snakes were nice touches. How long have you been carrying the music box?"

Liz smiled, and it felt like the first genuine smile she had in days. "When Potter made his claims about seeing the Dark Lord at the Triwizard Tournament, I realized that someday I may have to meet him, and at first I had thought of it as a gift I could offer. I had not anticipated being requested to sing. I'll ask you to remember what you said to me recently about this versatile career, and take heart that I was already several steps ahead of that advice." Liz paused to take a bite of a biscuit and sip on her tea as she considered her next question. "How do you know about the Mists of Mind?"

Snape sized her up without changing his plain expression, and the silence drew out. Liz was patient, but she had shared so much with him lately, and now it was his turn. Her patience wore thin. Finally, just before she could snap at him, he said, "My Misty Place is not as sophisticated as yours or containing any web traps, but it is a useful method of occlumency, which is a required component of my deception for both the Dark Lord and the Headmaster."

"Ah, so, does the Dark Lord typically show others' thoughts on display like that? It's a remarkable bit of legilimency and performance art. And do you typically show him everything you have seen?" She couldn't help the teasing lilt in her voice when she added, "Or even dreamt?"

He scowled. "No. I have seen the display screen twice before. This makes three times now that its purpose is public humiliation. He typically searches for one specific detail and leaves the rest alone. Usually I can anticipate his destination and provide the required memory quickly, therefore avoiding showing more personal moments."

"Then I must assume there is something he has heard about me but cannot confirm, and was merely interested in whether or not you have discovered it. I'm sorry he put you through that for nothing, since it seems he could not find it."

Snape did not respond, but his expression turned grave and he locked his gaze on hers.

Liz tried to be patient, but failed. "What is it?"

Snape blinked slowly, but a moment of silence stretched on again.

"Professor, I have been very trusting so far, but if there is something I should know then you had better say it now."

He stared at her.

Liz sighed. "What can I do to tempt you to speak? Money? I do have rather a lot. Do you need any healing? You know I can cure rare and dangerous conditions. Or maybe something else? Would you like that dream of yours to come true?"

Snape started so violently that he knocked his tea over on the table as he stood up. Then he began pacing across the room.

Liz was mildly amused that they had both made messes of the tea tonight. She squashed the urge to smirk and said, "Or you could simply tell me what I need to know, and I could stop insulting us both. It is really beneath me to offer these bribes, and certainly beneath you to accept."

He stopped pacing abruptly. "I want --" he started saying, but cut off the line. He said down again, waving his wand to clean up the mess on the table. "Miss Althea --"

"No," she interrupted. "For this conversation, it's Liz. Or Lizzy. Lysandra. Persephone. Hell, even Penny Liz will do. Anything but Miss Althea."

Snape closed his eyes. "Persephone," he whispered. "I am not surprised to learn that hand-healing is related to soul-healing, In the few times your skin has met mine, it felt like a warm breeze, lifting a weight that I have grown too accustomed to carrying."

Liz focused on breathing calmly and evenly. It must have cost him a lot of his pride to admit that, and a lot of worry that she would interpret too broadly. Instead of trying to come up with words to respond, she slowly got up, came around to the back of his chair, and gently laid her hands on his shoulders. A man like Snape could surely use a massage, she figured.

As she began she mused over the magic in her own touch. When she was first taught to focus that energy, she became very aware of the warm connection she caused with physical contact. It had been overwhelming and she learned to ignore it. But now it seemed she had affected Snape so greatly that it was time to unblock. Even through many layers of clothes and tension, Liz could feel the flow of her own good will and how it affected the man seated before her. 

When she briefly brushed the pads of her thumbs across the skin at his high collar, she could get a fair look at the surface of his soul. His aura was a riot of white and grey and just a hint of black at the center of a slowly turning spiral. There was probably more darkness in him, tightly repressed. The only more conflicted aura she'd ever read belonged to Suloos.

After just a few minutes, she could tell he was much more relaxed. Reluctantly, Liz shifted her attention away from her internal musings and found the train of thought that led them here. "Now," she said, "I will not stop the treatment, but I really must know what it is you are hiding from me."

Snape chuckled. It was a rich baritone sound that Liz had never heard before. It was downright heavenly. "Well," he said, "would you believe that I was merely being selfish and had nothing at all to share?"

Liz smiled to herself, and said, "I'll believe the selfish bit, but not for a second that you have nothing to tell me." She focused for a moment on working out a tightly bound knot in Snape's shoulder, but he did not seem interested in filling the silence with his own voice. So Liz said, "I suppose I will have to get used to your refusal to speak. I should not be surprised to find that you have already told me far too much these last few days."

"Indeed."

A moment of silence passed again, and Liz seemed to have worked all the knotted twists out of Snape's shoulders. She slipped back to her seat and said, "I would like to give a more complete rub-down another time. With the tangled mess I found in your shoulders I can only begin to imagine the horrible condition of your lower back. But I think it is getting too late tonight."

Snape was staring just past her, obviously ignoring her. Liz smiled when she realized it was because he was so relaxed that he was distracted with other thoughts. When he finally spoke, it was to say something that caught Liz quite off-guard. "House elves talk."

"At Hogwarts, maybe, but not Lippy." Liz smiled, wondering exactly what he thought Lippy would gossip about: the oddly intimate touching just now, the time in the bedroom earlier, or something else? "She's fiercely protective of me and knows better than to share my secrets."

Snape blinked, and the coldness in his gaze turned to warmth. "Since you will be meeting with him soon, I do not suggest trying to keep secrets from the Headmaster. Just as I said with the Dark Lord, it is essential that you do not outright lie. The Headmaster is generally thought to be a forgiving man, but if you lose his trust it will be very difficult to earn it back."

Liz got the distinct impression they weren't talking about her anymore, but before she could consider it further, her body betrayed her with a big yawn. "Oh dear," she said when it was over, "I suppose I only have a few hours before that appointment." She rubbed her eyes. "To be continued," she said, before bounding up the stairs and locking herself in her room.

Liz dozed fitfully, having blurred nightmares of the Dark Lord, his menacing voice whispering curses, and then hearing her parents screaming and seeing her daddy dying. She gave up on sleep when there was still no light in the sky but the street lamps outside. She peered out her window and saw a thin mist in the air but otherwise a calm scene.

It was at odds with the feelings coursing through her. She was all shaken up, hardly having time to grieve for her parents while meeting the most powerful wizards in the world. As she pondered this, she selected a new outfit for the day. She chose a gold dress that an admirer had given to her for her induction ball to the Parisian Healers Association. It was a calf-length mermaid-hipped gown with a high neckline in the front and a low scoop down the back that perfectly framed the Parisian Healers' seal inked between her shoulder blades.

With another fine outfit ready to go, Liz was ready to face another hard day.

\------------------------------

They apparated to Hogsmeade and walked to the gates of Hogwarts while the sky was still pale and pinkish grey through the mists. She was so tired, and she spent most of their walk just trying to wake up her brain and gather her wits. Once inside the castle, she was more alert, but the eerie summer silence raised goosebumps on her neck.

Snape carried himself stiffly, and did not once look at her. Good. Every time their eyes met he had a bad habit of trying to read her, despite knowing the risks.

Finally they were being welcomed into Dumbledore's office and asked to sit down next to each other opposite from the Headmaster himself.

Dumbledore smiled at them and offered a small tray of sweets, which both of them refused. He selected a couple of treats for himself and ate them slowly, gazing from Liz to Snape and back again. Just when Liz thought she could no longer stand the silence, Dumbledore asked, "What happened between the two of you?"

Liz was totally taken by surprise. She had expected questions about her healing, her parents, her visit with the Dark Lord, or about a dozen other possibilities. She hadn't thought for a second that he would open the discussion to ask about the awkward tension between her and Snape.

Snape merely raised one eyebrow and said, "Miss Althea has an unbreakable mind and spirit."

She whipped her head sideways, unsure if his tone meant praise or disdain. But he was looking across the desk toward Dumbledore, who gazed calmly at Liz and said, "Excellent. And I have already heard of your remarkable hands. I wish to offer you lodging here at Hogwarts for the summer, so that you may train with Madam Pomfrey."

Narrowing her eyes, Liz took a moment to think about that. If she was perfectly honest with herself, the thought had crossed her mind that her mother's current state meant that she wouldn't be whisked away to train with more healers abroad. Did she really want to do it anyway here at home, too? And even if she did, she'd rather do it on her own terms, and not anyone else's, just for once. Finally she said, "No."

Snape scowled in her periphery. "That is a mistake."

She rolled her eyes and returned her full attention to Dumbledore. His sad blue eyes locked with hers. "May I ask why?"

"Of course, Headmaster. I think it is quite simple. The people who come to Hogwarts for help are already going to get plenty. Madam Pomfrey is a capable healer with close ties to St. Mungo's. You don't need me. I am needed by people who are too scared, or twisted, or don't know how, to come to Hogwarts."

Dumbledore stood up and moved to the window. He gazed out into the mists for a few seconds, and then he said very softly, "You make a fair point, Miss Althea. Severus, what do you think of this?"

There was a very hard look in Snape's eyes. "Even the most twisted and frightened of men can still find help at Hogwarts."

It almost broke Liz's heart to hear him say that. Entirely too bold, she reached out and took his nearer hand in hers. "Professor, you are too hard on yourself."

"On that," said Dumbledore, "I agree completely." He swept back into his chair. "Perhaps, Miss Althea, you would consent to staying for just a few days. I have two specific cases I would like you to examine." He placed both hands on his desk, and Liz saw the blackened residue of an intense curse deforming his right hand. "And," he continued, "I would like to examine in detail your encounter with Voldemort."

Liz sighed, unable to help the feeling of intrigue that gripped her at the sight of Dumbledore's hands. She looked at Snape, whose hand was still in hers. He lifted one eyebrow as if to say,  _ Well? _ So, after stalling with another sigh, Liz finally said, "I suppose I can grant you three days, starting tomorrow. However, today I have things to accomplish back in London, and, if I am called by the Dark Lord, I may have to leave sooner."

Dumbledore nodded but frowned. He turned to Snape, his face full of concern. Liz watched as a curious nonverbal exchange seemed to be happening between the two men. Liz was indignant when she realized what was going on. She pulled away from Snape and stood up.

They both looked at her. She took a deep breath and said, "If you are going to have a conversation without me, I will just leave you to it."

Dumbledore quickly said, "My apologies, Miss Althea. Do sit down, and forgive us for our rudeness."

Liz did not sit down. She raked one hand through her long black hair and asked sharply, "What were you two planning for me?"

"Miss Althea," that was Snape, and he was back to the cold, unpleasant teacher she remembered from school. "Professor McGonagall will escort you to London today, and you will be grateful for her attention. I will fetch her now, and in the meantime you will tell the Headmaster everything he wants to know." Snape stood up and towered over her, at the edge of her personal space.

Liz did not budge, except to glance down at his feet, wondering if he had charmed his boots so he'd be more than two inches taller than her. She only had to tilt her chin up a fraction to make eye contact through her glasses.

Snape continued, and he was so close she could catch a whiff of the coffee on his breath. "After you return from London, you will report to this office and do as the Headmaster wishes, even if that means residing here indefinitely. Apparently we have been too lenient with you. You think you are in charge of your situation, but if you continue to give orders to your elders and demand answers, you will quickly find yourself killed. And it will happen much faster if you leave the castle alone."

He was trying very hard to go back to being a bastard, but after what Liz had been through she could only respond with a sort of half-sob, half-laugh. Finally, she decided that there wasn't much point in rebelling at the moment. "For today I will do as you say. Thank you for the concern over my well-being. I expect I will see you again soon."

Still keeping his gaze, she turned her lips upward. It was more of a smirk than a sneer, but she wasn't sure he could tell the difference between her expressions. His eyes were on fire, but it was unclear what he was thinking. They were so close. Any other man, in any other situation, would only be this close to kiss her. It was a cute little fantasy, but highly inappropriate for this moment.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Severus," he said, "I believe you have been dismissed."

Snape did not say anything, but he also did not break eye contact with Liz until he was closing the office door behind him.

"Now, Miss Althea, I must ask again that you sit down."

Liz did.

"So, tell me what really happened between you two."

Liz tried to give a smile, but her heart wasn't interested in deception or wit. She stared into her lap, thinking it over for a minute, and then said, "He has done very well to guide me through this difficult time."

"And?"

Liz really did smile this time, but she still did not look up. Dumbledore was being persistent. What was he after? Following another short silence to consider this, she had to admit to herself that she wasn't entirely sure what  _ she _ was after, either. So far sticking with Snape had been the right choice, and the riotous conflict in his soul intrigued her. Finally, Liz said, "I would like to help him in return. He has to play a game with both sides of this war. Maybe I can just be on his side."

She heard Dumbledore get up, but did not look until he came over to kneel at her side. He grasped her hand with his good one and squeezed it tightly. Liz was embarrassed to see tears getting caught in his beard.

"Don't," she said, using her free hand to find her handkerchief (actually, she still had Snape's from earlier) and dab gently at his face.

"We need more kind hearts like yours in Slytherin. If we had known about you just a little sooner..." he trailed off.

Tamping down an urge to scoff at the notion of her kindness, Liz focused on the sorrow in the old man's eyes. "Do I even want to know what I could have prevented?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I am quite sure you do not. And do not concern yourself. It is all of us who teach here that were too blind to see you properly. But, let me say, if you think you can help Severus, then please, please do."

Liz nodded slowly, extremely uncomfortable at having Dumbledore begging on his knees, and then they heard a knock on the door. That would be McGonagall, of course. "Tomorrow I will see to your hand, and give you my full report of my meeting with the Dark Lord."

\------------------------------

Liz took the initiative to be curt and unpleasant with McGonagall. "First I need to see my mother's solicitor," was all she said to the woman for the better part of 20 minutes. McGonagall seemed to take this in stride, and Liz was impressed with the woman's tactful silence.

Liz left McGonagall in the small lobby of Werner Schwarz's office, peering into the conference room as Liz took a seat across from the solicitor in his private office room. He briefly offered his condolences and got right down to business.

Luckily, Liz's parents had completed the paperwork that provided Liz with all rights to handle family business. With her mother incapable and her father deceased, everything that was her mother's and father's was now hers.

She made it very clear that she wanted nothing to do with her parents' properties. "In fact," she said, "I insist you take double your fee for handling both deeds, since the house is a hybrid and the bar is in ruins."

"Actually," Herr Schwarz said, "Hybrid homes are quite popular. There are many families like yours which have both muggle and magical heritage and require both kinds of amenities. The house will sell in no time. The Raven Witch, however, could be a problem. Would you be opposed to my hiring someone to fix it up?"

"Not at all. Does my mother still have you authorized to withdraw from her expense account?"

Herr Schwarz nodded.

"Then please use the funds as needed."

"Since you are making this decision, I just require your signature on a new authorization."

Liz nodded, and signed the document Herr Schwarz put before her.

"Speaking of your mother's accounts," Herr Schwarz continued, "Let us discuss her other business." Liz's look of surprise was all he needed to continue, handing her a stack of parchments as he asked, "You were not aware? She is co-owner of the beauty supply company Fatin's Looks."

"Oh really?" She examined the documentation before her. The top sheet was an explanation of Sila's investment and expected returns. The second was an organization chart showing professional titles of two co-owners and a handful of staff, though none of them were named. There were more details to consider here, but Liz shook her head and looked back up across the desk. "Wow, I use their products myself. They have a very diverse selection of quality goods. Sleekeazy might be able to tame a rat's nest, but Fatin is my real bathmate. So who is the other owner?"

Herr Schwarz frowned. "I suppose if you were not aware of your mother's involvement, then you would not be aware of her partner's identity." He paused and drew breath, apparently unsure about divulging this information. "Severus Snape."

Liz opened her mouth to express her disbelief and then closed it. After a moment's thought, she said, "He invents the products, doesn't he?"

He did not answer, and that was all the answer she needed.

"Brilliant. It is no wonder, then, that my cleanser is so superior and my moisturizer so light and my depilatory so effective. A true Potions Master created them. Just brilliant. Of course my mother would jump on that opportunity. Was she simply a financier or did she have other responsibilities?"

"After the initial investment, and setting up the distribution through owl-orders, Sila mostly sat back and watched the profits roll in. Occasionally she would market and expand the distribution to more retailers and salons, and whenever Professor Snape came up with a great new brew, she would personally demonstrate it for their biggest customers. Once the primaries adopted it, the rest would follow."

Liz smiled as she took a moment to digest this new information. She whispered, more to herself than to Werner Schwarz, "I wonder why they didn't tell me."

"Maybe you should ask him. And perhaps you should discuss the future of the company with him before coming back to me."

"I'm sure I will see him again very soon, and I'll do exactly that."

His eyes narrowed. "Soon? A moment ago I thought perhaps he was nothing more to you than a potions teacher. How close are you with Snape?"

"Of course that's what you want to know, and that's exactly what I cannot tell you."

"He's dangerous, Lizzy. He's an honest and productive business partner but I don't recommend social entanglements."

Liz sighed. "Herr Schwarz, you must realize that I am in this position because my parents were brutally attacked by Death Eaters."

He winced at that.

"I'm not sure of all the reasons why Snape was chosen to watch my back these last two days, but I know some of them, and it is reasonable. Besides, he has always been decent to me at school -- I am one of his Slytherins, after all -- and right now I need a guide who has seen both the dark and the light. The fact that he is in business with my mother practically makes him a family friend."

"Lizzy, I must insist you take a step back. I have nothing but guesses for you, but he and your mother worked together for many years, nearly as long as you've been alive. They were close in business, and I would not be surprised if they were close personally, too. For a while I had wondered if they weren't doing wrong by your father. He's a master of manipulation, and you should watch your own back."

"Oh," she said lamely. That  _ did _ rather sound like both of them, mum willing to fuck anyone to get what she wanted, and Snape discreet enough to take advantage without Sila's family catching wise. "I've -- Well, I've had a rough couple of days, and he's the only person I really have to talk to." Liz felt like crying all over again, and couldn't hold back a quick sniffle. She looked down at herself, at the shimmering gold draped modestly across her front but so scandalously low-cut in the back. "I keep wearing my best clothes to build back my confidence. Do you think it will give him the wrong impression?"

"I cannot say. And even if it does, Lizzy, you are the one who said it -- you are Slytherin. You can turn it to your own advantage. But you have to be aware that Snape is not an old man, and you are no longer a child."

Liz laughed. "I'm going to be perfectly honest with you, Herr Schwarz. I've already been to bed with men older than Snape, older than you, even. A perk of my travels abroad." She chuckled again at his grimace but quickly squashed her mirth. "I'm sorry. That was really unnecessary information. You should probably forget I said anything. Look, Herr Schwarz.  _ Werner. _ I appreciate your concern and will take your observations to heart. But I do not want you to worry for me. Just take care of my business interests. That's why I'm paying you double."

"As you wish, Fraulein Althea."

Liz knew her face was falling. "Please," she whispered, "Bitte, don't --"

"Ach, nein, Fraulein Althea, you have made it quite clear that you require the formalities of adulthood, if not the proprieties. I wish you luck, and I will do my best to take care of business on your behalf." With a flick of his wand, Herr Schwarz lifted the wards on the office. "It's a big bad world out there, Fraulein Althea. Do be careful. Auf wiedersehen."

And with that he focused his attention on paperwork.

Liz sat awkwardly for a moment, unsure about this dismissal. The literal translation of his final phrase is something like "until I see you again," but Liz felt a pressing finality in the words. Finally, she rose from her seat, whispered a quick "danke schoen," and swiftly made her exit.

She refused to cry in front of McGonagall, and with very few words they found themselves at St. Mungo's. She considered going to see her mother, but decided against it. Instead, she went straight to Jason's secretary to cut the red tape from around her mother's records.

When that dull business was finished, she stepped back out and heard McGonagall, a little ways down the hall, talking to someone else. Liz approached slowly, trying to eavesdrop. "... and we don't know what all she's capable of," McGonagall was saying.

"Yeah well, if she just lost her parents, maybe I could talk to her." It was a boy from school, but his back was turned.

"Talk to me about what?" Both of them turned bright red, and the boy turned around. "Longbottom?"

"It's Neville, yeah. You're Liz, right?"

Liz nodded slowly and carefully. Gryffindors. She was far too emotionally exhausted to have to deal with them now.

"Well," said McGonagall, trying to sound cheerful instead of awkward and only just succeeding, "perhaps the four of us could go for ice cream before we continue with errands?"

Liz rolled her eyes. Ignoring the question of the unseen fourth companion, she said, "Professor, I have today and today only to pack and vacate my parents' home."

"Then we should definitely not delay you," said an old woman's voice, just coming out of an adjoining ward. "My name is Augusta Longbottom, deary, Neville's grandmother. Neville, is this another friend from school?"

Neville clearly didn't know what to say, so Liz tried to save him, drawing on her limited experience with pureblood etiquette at home and much more expansive dealings abroad, "I think we are one class apart, and of course members of different Houses. My name is Persephone Lysandra Althea, but I go by Liz, if you please." She held her hand out in the formal witchmaiden's greeting. "It is nice to make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is mine, my dear," said the Mistress Longbottom, who briefly gripped Liz's hand in her own with a formal witch's greeting. "I only caught the end of your conversation, but am I right to assume that it would be polite to offer my condolences?"

Liz wasn't sure what to say. She could feel her face screwing up in pain and tears threatening to break.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, I did not mean to put you in a state. Perhaps we can help you pack up. Neville may be a little clumsy, but he is strong and considerate. And I can catch up with Minerva!"

Liz opened her mouth to say no and then closed it, considering the potential bonus of having a distraction for McGonagall.

So it was decided, after the doors to their respective wards were re-locked, the four of them went into the city to clean out Liz's old home.

Liz set up the ladies in the tea room and left them there, taking Neville upstairs. She hesitated at her parents' bedroom door.

"If you prefer to do this alone..."

"No, thank you, Neville. I didn't realize until I was standing here that it is probably best to have someone here who doesn't know them at all, who hasn't seen them like they are now, and whom no one will believe if he goes telling stories." Liz silently congratulated herself on her implied threat, but her hand rested on the doorknob, unable to go farther.

After a moment of silence, Neville said quietly, "My parents were tortured by Death Eaters. What happened to yours?"

Liz couldn't look at him. She only stared at her own hand on the doorknob. "The same."

"I'm sorry."

"Daddy didn't make it. I am an  _ excellent _ healer, and I almost saved him, but it wasn't enough. And mum, well, I don't know how to describe what happened to her mind." Liz was breathing very fast, and she recited a vocal warmup in her head, as she gripped the brass knob tightly, to ground herself.

"My parents are both mad, too." Neville took Liz's hand off the door. She finally looked at him and cringed at the honest grief she saw there, and how it changed to determination. "Look, Liz, we'll make it square. Let's get you packed up here now, and when school starts I'll introduce you to the D.A. We've been training to fight back, or at least defend ourselves, and we could use some advice on healing. Even if you are Slytherin, I'll vouch for you, and they won't be able to say no."

Liz sighed and tried not to laugh. She really shouldn't tell Neville that she was already being recruited to both sides, and maybe she shouldn't dismiss him completely. "Thanks, but I don't fight, Neville. I heal, or I run away. Or both, usually. School is still a long way off, and I don't know what will happen before then. If I am still in this sorry state by the first of September, then we can talk about the D.A. But for now, let's... let's just get to work."

Neville did an excellent job helping her pack.

It was late in the evening when they finally finished. Liz had selected most of the things to go to auction, some (including most of her own possessions) to store in her Gringotts vault, and just a few items of her parents' to take with her own luggage to Hogwarts.

The most intriguing item was the diary Liz found. Or at least, she suspected it was her mother's diary, but it was magically encrypted. It looked like a jumble of Greek and Latin, written in a not-quite-right imitation of her mother's pretty script. She waved her wand once, but the encryption was a little tougher than the Caesar cypher she knew how to unlock. In fact, just trying a simple decryption spell sent a little jolt of magical backlash at her, and she nearly dropped her wand.

The backlash was tinged with the deceptive lust of dark magic, and Liz shuddered as she fanned through the pages looking for clues. Inside the back cover, Liz saw something that made her keep the diary in her cloak pocket, instead of the boxes. It was a mark that looked just like an s-bend swooping down from the capital letter D. Maybe within she would find some answers.

It was past 10 o'clock when they returned to Hogwarts. McGonagall insisted that Liz go straight to her room and report to Dumbledore in the morning. So Liz found herself back in her own dormitory, sitting on her school-time bed and trying to be calm. Despite her attempt yesterday, it had been several days since she last meditated, and she was having trouble focusing. Perhaps a bit of dancing would be the right exercise to clear her mind.

Liz rummaged through one of her trunks to find her master music box. She wanted to start carrying it with her always. When she finally dug it out, she was rather thrilled to have also found the letters from her friends that Snape delivered the day prior. Wow, was that really only yesterday? There were only two, which was not surprising.

The first was from Riley. Ah, sweet Riley, her best friend. His letter offered his support in any way he could manage, but admitted that he had no idea how to help. "I just wanted you to know that I'm thinking of you," Liz read aloud, "and I can't wait to see you again." That was just like him. She would definitely have to visit him sometime this summer. She had never been to his house and never met his parents, but from his many stories and photos she could try to imagine what it was like. All three of them were short and skinny, and their house was a yellow cottage in a southern English village. That would be a nice little vacation, if she could get away safely. The rest of his letter detailed his favorite parts of her performance at The Raven Witch. It made her smile a genuine smile, and it gave her much comfort.

The other letter was from Kellan. Now that she had a chance to think about him, Liz realized she was still rather angry at him. Then she suddenly felt rather guilty, holding this letter and thinking of how close she'd gotten with Snape. But that was absurd. She wasn't close to him at all. Whatever was going on with her and Snape, it may be intense and mysterious but it should not get in the way of seeing Kellan. Should it?

Finally Liz opened Kellan's letter.

_ Dear Lizzy, _

_ I'm sorry to hear about what happened. I wish I knew how to help but I don't know. I'm also sorry to say that my first reaction to the news was to think how glad I was that this didn't happen to me. I feel horribly guilty about that. I know that this kind of thing can really change people, and I know that you have some tough choices to make very soon. So I don't want you to fret over how your actions might affect me, or feel guilty about choosing something for yourself without thinking of me. I know I am feeling guilty enough for the both of us.  _

_ Father did send me to Germany, and I don't know when I'll see you again. _

_ Take Care,  
_ _ Kellan _

It sounded very much like Kellan should feel guilty, indeed. He was the first, although Liz knew he would not be the last, to treat her like a victim to be pitied. It was a shame. The boy was Slytherin, but he still should have been more up front about breaking up with her, instead of trying to make it her decision. He was clearly being controlled by his father's fear, and she was not quite sure whether she would even dignify this letter with a response.

Now that her thoughts of Kellan were tied into a neat little break-up package, Liz reconsidered Snape.

And she found that she wanted to see him again very soon.

In fact, it was 11 o'clock now. Maybe he would still be up? But what would she say to him? Liz thought about it as she quickly changed from her golden dress to a soft, stretchy, grey one with long sleeves and a shallow, oval neckline. Then she let her hair down, and it swooped in waves from the shape it had held all day. She quickly checked her look in the mirror and found it to be modest but attractive. It was perfect.

So she set out to find him, first heading deeper into the dungeons, but then abruptly changing her direction. She still hadn't thought of what she would say to him, but it finally dawned what he might say to her. He would be rather upset that she was seeing him before Dumbledore. A few minutes later she found herself once again outside of Dumbledore's office, saying "Date Pinwheels," as she remembered Snape doing.

"Welcome back, Miss Althea," Professor Dumbledore said, gesturing to the chair she had occupied earlier.

Liz took it, and spared a glance at the empty chair where Snape had been. When she looked back at Dumbledore, he was smiling softly.

"I believe you just missed him," he said. "Severus finished his own report about a quarter hour ago."

Liz schooled her expression and looked directly at Dumbledore. She shouldn't let her thoughts be so obvious.

"I was most intrigued by his description of the protections around your mind. Can you tell me more about them?"

"Not much. Somehow I can bypass them by looking inward at myself, so I rarely see them unless a legilimens is poking around where he shouldn't be. I know a few ways to break the first two webs, but they always mend quickly. I know three ways to escape the Mists of Mind if it's done before you break the first web. There is only one way after that, and it does not work past the second web." Liz fidgeted a little as she considered the dangers in her own mind. "I know there are more, but I've only seen one trap past the second web, and it... well, it is not a place you want to be."

"What is in your mind that needs such protection?"

She gave him a hard look. If there was something which warranted this protection, she should hardly be volunteering that information. However, Liz relented and said, "There is only one topic so far which I find worthy of this protection. The inherent weaknesses of a Hand Healer are not commonly known, and I should like to keep it that way. In addition, my entire memory is in the darkness behind the third trap, organized in a labyrinth which seems intuitive to me but would surely drive anyone else insane."

"Can you draw these memories up into the Mists?"

Liz smiled. "Yes. I know a technique for bringing a memory bubble to the front of my mind. Is that how you would care to examine my visit with the Dark Lord?"

"If you don't mind, I have a pensieve ready."

"Ah, a pensieve? I have seen one but never used it myself. Once my memory bubble is in the Misty Place, it is easy to share with a competent legilimens. I have to admit I do not know how to extract the memory entirely."

"Easily enough. I'd be happy to do the honors for you, if you would just bring up the bubble."

Liz hesitated. "I should like to have it back when we are finished."

"Not to worry, my dear. It will be as if it was never gone. In fact it may become sharper than it is now after your detached examination."

A minute later they were observers in Liz's memory. It was different from any other way she had viewed her own memories. She was standing apart from her memory-self, and it was bizarre to see the scene as it really was, rather than how she experienced it. But it made perfect sense as to why Dumbledore preferred this method. There would be no bias from her feelings, the focus of her attentions, or her perceptions. Detached examination, indeed.

Liz selected a spot near the wall of the Malfoys' dining room from which she could see everything. Dumbledore stood much closer. As the scene wore on, she briefly wondered if she should have edited out the part where the Dark Lord put Snape's dream on display, but Dumbledore did not seem interested in it. He was watching intently as the Dark Lord searched Snape's mind, and Liz caught him eyeing her hand holding Snape's with some amusement. When finally her memory-self stepped up onto the table, Dumbledore came over to where she was watching and said, "Severus already showed me your performance. Splendid, really. Very appropriate. But perhaps we can skip it?"

Liz frowned. She had never watched herself perform, and this was the performance she gave to the Dark Lord himself! But maybe Dumbledore was right. It was done, there was nothing to change and probably nothing to notice, since the Death Eaters were all masked and she'd already gotten Snape's opinion on the Dark Lord's reaction.

So they returned to Dumbledore's office, and Dumbledore returned the memory to Liz.

Then he said, "Severus tells me that your touch is a conduit for soul magic. Tell me about that."

"The living body is the anchor of the soul," she recited automatically from a lesson long ago. But then she thought about it more deliberately, and she shuddered. "The Dark Lord must have done something to keep his soul anchored when Harry Potter reflected that Killing Curse." Gulping, Liz wondered at the wisdom of speculating, and barreled on anyway. "It is not every day that you meet someone with such a mutilated soul. I'll grant that the man is pure evil, but I did not expect... and I did not even have to touch him to know his soul had been ripped many times. It occurred to me that maybe he was interested in my healing in order to help him become whole again. But when I got my chance to speak of souls he seemed to be rather... upset."

Dumbledore gave her a twinkly grin. "Ah, the Slytherin capacity for understatement."

"Indeed." Liz sighed. "I suppose I will just keep my mouth shut, pretend like it didn't happen, and dare not to mention souls to him again unless he brings it up explicitly."

"A wise choice."

It was then that Liz again noticed Dumbledore's blackened hand. And she wondered. Without warning, she got up, grasped his hand, and said, "Of course!" as the magic made itself known.

Dumbledore, to his credit, did not flinch and did not say anything. He let Liz think.

And think she did. Connections were made. Ideas were considered. When she finally came to a conclusion, she was slightly embarrassed at her actions, gently set Dumbledore's hand back on his desktop, and re-seated herself.

He gave her his full attention, eyes soft and patient.

"I'm sorry," she said, "Both for my rudeness and what I am about to say." She put on her most serious expression. "I know of just one way to cure you, and it is to mend the piece of soul that carried the curse."

Dumbledore's face matched hers, and he nodded slowly. She was glad he understood, and she didn't have to say that it was next to impossible.

"Headmaster," Liz said very steadily, "I do not know how he did it, and just once is enough to be truly terrifying. It chills me to the bone to think of how many times he must have bound curses to pieces of his very soul, in order to leave himself in tatters."

"Do you know how many?"

Liz jumped in her seat, startled by how he barked this question.

"Miss Althea, this might be the most important question you have ever answered. Do you know how many times Lord Voldemort tore his soul?"

Liz thought very hard but shook her head. "It -- It's hard to tell. A handful? I do not know. Perhaps between four and ten? Maybe more, as there are certainly more tears, but I did not consider pieces actually being ripped away. It's so novel to me. I have never --"

She watched Dumbledore's hopeful expression fall as she babbled. "It's all right, Miss Althea. It is probably for the best that you are not familiar with this kind of evil, and what you have already shared is invaluable evidence of something I only suspected."

Silence fell as they both took in the significance of this conversation. And the implications.

Finally, Dumbledore spoke again. "Miss Althea, it is very fortunate that your mind has so many safeguards, for it is imperative that no one know we had this conversation. Obviously the Dark Lord must not know, but no one else either, not even Severus."

Liz nodded, almost feeling grateful to have something more in her mind worth protecting. "I swear I will not tell anyone."

"Good. Also, if you wish to continue providing me with information, I will have to ask for an oath of loyalty to the Order of the Phoenix."

Liz gulped and shook her head. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant by the Order of the Phoenix. "I have made several oaths in my life, but they all come back to the principle of  _ First, do no harm _ . I will not take any oath which may conflict with these. I would rather die."

"Very well." His expression turned cold and hard.

"You can safely assume that I will say as much to the Dark Lord should he suggest I take his Mark."

Dumbledore did not respond, but slowly the hard lines in his face softened.

Liz felt her boldness returning, and she stood. She rounded his desk and lifted herself to sit on it, slightly to Dumbledore's left, facing him. She slowly and deliberately reached for his left hand, his good hand, and held it in both of hers. "You now know where I stand, Headmaster," she said, directing her warmth and good will his way. "I will not yield. I will only heal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on this fic is officially un-beta'd. Eternal gratitude, mad props, and gift fics available to any new alpha/beta readers who join the Liz Fic Discord server at https://discord.gg/zR8HRKz.


	5. I'm Not Growing Up; I'm Just Burning Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on this fic is officially un-beta'd. Eternal gratitude, mad props, and gift fics available to any new alpha/beta readers who join the Liz Fic Discord server at https://discord.gg/zR8HRKz.

#  P1Ch5 Playlist

  * Title track: "Burnout" by Green Day 1994
  * _It was a slow, ancient song, just one line asking nature for the gift of knowledge and the wisdom to understand it._
  * "Over the Hills and Far Away" by Led Zeppelin 1973



Chapter 5 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3K9s66Eh7x6XywA41gadZD>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 5: I'm Not Growing Up; I'm Just Burning Out

Before Liz left Dumbledore's office, he was kind enough to offer a job to Lippy, in the Hogwarts kitchens, until Liz could find herself more permanent lodgings. Very grateful, and somewhat embarrassed that she had forgotten to think of her elf, Liz gave Professor Dumbledore her profuse thanks and excused herself.

Back in her solitary dorm room, Liz flopped down on her bed, totally exhausted but afraid to sleep.

Three nightmares, one crying fit, and one more nightmare later, Liz donned a practical pale blue robe and went for an early breakfast in the Great Hall. She had never stayed at the castle for a holiday break, and was pleased to see the formal house-based tables exchanged for a couple of smaller round ones. Dumbledore and Pomfrey were already there, having breakfast alone.

Liz came to Dumbledore's left side and asked quietly, "Is this seat taken?"

"Not at all, my dear," he said, just barely sounding cheerful, and as Liz sat down, he added, sounding a little hesitant, "I recommend the oatmeal with honey."

Liz frowned. He couldn't possibly know that was her favorite hot breakfast.

"It seems that Lippy has been lecturing some of the other elves about proper meals."

"Oh," Liz laughed. "Well, that's why we call her Lippy." Liz tucked into her oatmeal and selected a few strawberries as well. In between bites, Liz observed the summer sky through the enchanted ceiling. For the first time in a week, it was sunny. "It seems the weather is looking up," she said, sending a quick smile toward Dumbledore.

"Indeed," he said, seeming mildly amused.

Pomfrey was nibbling on toast and sipping on coffee, and she took this opportunity to say, "Miss Althea, the Headmaster has told me a rather fantastic story about you."

Liz tried to smile sweetly, but she was sure it only looked pained. "I suppose fantastic is a technically appropriate term, but I might have gone for tragic, myself."

"I'm sorry. When you have been in the healing business as long as I have, you may find yourself a little jaded."

Liz almost rolled her eyes. Understatement of the year. "I've heard that from many healers, actually. But I am looking forward to finding out what you can teach me. I have agreed to stay at Hogwarts these next three days at least, and I should like to devote a considerable amount of that time toward improving my skills and knowledge."

"Certainly, Miss Althea. When would you like to start?"

"As soon as you are available."

Pomfrey smiled. "Well, then, I have a personal errand to attend to, but I will be in my office in about thirty minutes."

As Pomfrey swept out of the hall, Liz extracted the St. Mungo's paperwork from her cloak and laid it on the table next to her bowl. She had barely read through the wand registration form when Snape and McGonagall both came in. McGonagall took the seat on the other side of Dumbledore, and Snape took the empty seat next to Liz. His eyes narrowed as he peered at the St. Mungo's letterhead. "What's this?"

Liz smiled at him. "Good morning to you too. I recommend the oatmeal with honey." She could just sense Dumbledore smirking behind his beard. "Healer Kayson spoke of an internship as if he had been itching to ask since the moment he met me. I think it would be a superb day-job for my summer."

"I still advise you to stay."

"Agreed," chimed McGonagall.

Liz was getting rather frustrated. They each had their own reasons for wanting her at Hogwarts, and while it would be easy to blow off McGonagall, it was getting harder to refuse Snape. And since she hadn't mentioned the internship last night, she was acutely aware of Dumbledore's curiosity.

Instead of responding, Liz finished her oatmeal. When her bowl was empty, she took her packet of paperwork and stood. "Well I am off to see Madam Pomfrey. I will have to make more progress on this later." She looked at Snape specifically when she added, "And I will let you know what I decide." As she walked away she waved and said, "I wish everyone a productive day!"

\------------------------------

When Liz arrived at the infirmary, she found Madam Pomfrey in the side-office, writing on a parchment at her desk. She quickly folded it, locked the parchment in her top desk drawer, and greeted Liz with a big grin.

"Good morning again, Miss Althea," she said brightly. "Today I had planned to inventory my supply cupboards and make orders, which is one of the most important tasks of a healer who is responsible for a ward, or even just her own supply satchel."

Liz responded to Pomfrey's knowing grin with one of her own. "I'd be happy to help."

"Excellent. Now, this is a school. What are some of the most common ailments among students ages 11 to 18?"

She thought it over for a few seconds before beginning her list. "Bruises, cuts, sleep deprivation, stress, acne, minor hexes, maybe a more major accident like a broken bone, and," she hesitated, "homesickness."

Pomfrey smiled. "Very good, Miss Althea. Do you have a background in psychology as well?"

"Not really. Just common sense and a little experience."

"Ah. There are just two conditions I will add to your list. One is feminine needs, and the other might surprise you but there are a shocking number of cases of poisonings and allergic reactions. Well then, we consider stocking based primarily on these conditions with the good sense to plan for a little extra."

As they worked, Pomfrey seemed to be bursting with some excitement, and Liz was put off by it. She peppered Liz with questions, and it grated on Liz's nerves. She asked Liz if she had done similar tasks before. At first, Liz just lifted one shoulder and nodded. But Pomfrey pressed the point, and Liz elaborated a little bit about her formal training in Paris. When the questions turned to her practical experience, Liz clammed up and shook her head. "Can I tell you some of that later? The most recent was a little too recent, if you know what I mean."

Finally, Pomfrey could no longer stand to keep her composure. As they finished making a list of brews to request from Snape, Pomfrey said, "Now, Miss Althea, I am wondering how many other True Healers you have met?"

Liz did not look up as she finished writing their list. "A handful. Most of them keep to themselves and their own community, and not a single one of them speaks English."

"I see. How would you like to train with one who does travel, and he does speak English?"

Liz put down her quill, slid her hands up under her glasses to rub her eyes, and then gave Pomfrey a serious look. "I would like to warn him not to come, unless he has no fear of the Dark Lord."

Pomfrey blinked in surprise.

Liz continued, "But I would like to meet him very much, if I thought I could do it without risking either of our safety."

"My dear, I'm sure we could offer Healer Socorro the same protection at Hogwarts that has been extended to you."

Ah, Socorro, the one healer that her mother couldn't corner. As tempting as it was to meet the man who could elude Siladora Althea, she knew better. She gave Pomfrey a sad look and finally said, "I'm sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but I am not staying. Next week I will begin an internship at St. Mungo's for the summer. If we can offer Healer Socorro this protection once school has started in September, I would happily postpone this training until then."

Liz didn't know Poppy Pomfrey very well, but she would have been a fool to miss the way her expression darkened. She said, "You should take a day to think about it, Miss Althea. For now, you are dismissed."

\------------------------------

Liz had an hour before she would be hungry for lunch. She had been honest with Pomfrey about her opinion on meeting Healer Socorro and needed to take her mind off of it. It was just too tempting to agree to stay now.

She decided to examine the package from St. Mungo's. It seemed like pretty standard forms for employment in a magical hospital: confidentiality agreement, wand registration, list of skills and experiences, and a professional recommendation form. That last one could be the trickiest, with the way she kept alienating everyone at Hogwarts. She wondered if she could get a response from Healer Treauxbib in Paris fast enough.

She completed all of the other forms, and then it was lunch time.

It seemed that meals would be a very informal affair during the summer. Liz spent over an hour sitting at the dining table, nibbling on little sandwiches, sipping a strawberry smoothie, and working on a crossword puzzle. Professors and Filch came and went, most wolfing down their meal but a few staying to help Liz with a few tricky clues.

Finally Snape and Dumbledore came in, and they seemed to be having a heated discussion until they both spotted Liz and immediately stopped.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said, "would you say that a seven-letter 'prankster' is a Weasley or a funster? The vote is currently tied, and the ‘s' and the ‘e' both fit."

Dumbledore said nothing, but Snape said, "Add one for Weasley."

Liz smirked and added the appropriate letters to her puzzle as the men sat down. Snape chose the seat on Liz's left and Dumbledore the one on her right. She wasn't sure whether to feel surrounded by or torn between.

"The strawberry smoothie is superb today," Liz ventured, shifting to sit up a bit straighter.

Dumbledore abruptly said, "It seems you have upset Poppy thoroughly."

"Oh?"

"Indeed, yes. She has declared a three-day vacation for herself and left you in charge of her ward."

Liz considered this for a moment. "So, she doesn't want to see me again if I am just going to leave, and to try and convince me to stay she wants me to man her post. What could she expect to change my mind?"

"Hopefully nothing," said Snape. "I've come around, Miss Althea, and I think you are right that St. Mungo's needs you more."

Liz had been reaching for her smoothie but planted both her palms down on the table. "Thank you, Professor," she said as calmly as she could. She felt something was off, that there was some kind of deception in his change of mind. "I don't suppose I could trouble you to write a recommendation?"

He quickly replied, "Certainly. I can do it this afternoon."

Liz smiled, and she saw Dumbledore's good hand twitch out of the corner of her eye. Ah, so whatever they had been arguing about, Snape was using Liz to get back at Dumbledore. Liz's instinct was to take it all back and throw a fit, but she wanted the internship and if this was going to get it for her faster, then so be it.

The rest of the meal was awkward and stiff, so Liz finished her puzzle as fast as she could and bolted.

She freshened up her makeup, cleaned her glasses, brushed out her hair, and grabbed a stack of parchments before finding Snape in his office.

"Good afternoon again, Professor," she said, surprised that he beat her there. He must have found lunch even more unbearable than she had. "There is a specific form they want you to use." She handed over the relevant parchment.

He nodded and examined it.

"If you don't mind, I should like to stay and write a letter that I have been meaning to send for two days now."

He did not look at her. He was already sitting down with the recommendation form and a quill. He simply gestured to the chair opposite his desk, as if inviting her to sit.

Liz rolled her eyes, since he wasn't watching anyway, and she conjured herself a small lap desk on which to do her writing.

_ Dear Riley, _

_ Thank you for your kind letter the other day. I have been keeping very busy in order not to spend all my time crying and being scared. I cannot say very much about what I have done, but it is time for a bit of truth to come out. _

_ I am what they call a True Healer, and my gift specifically is Hand Healing. When my mother has taken me abroad all these years, she has found people who can train me. It's very special, Riley, because I heal with my bare hands. _

_ Hopefully I will be spending my summer in London, working for St. Mungo's, and it won't be too much of a stretch to visit you. I feel this pressing need to meet your parents and see your home, but I don't know when it will be safe. _

_ I miss you. Hopefully the next time I write it will be to confirm a good time to visit. _

_ Love,  
_ _ Liz _

Snape was still writing when Liz finished her letter, so she took the time to watch him and think. It had been more than a day since they had been alone together. She meant it when she told Dumbledore that she would like to be on (or was it at?) Snape's side. Wow, what was wrong with her? Suddenly interested in Snape? Really?

She felt connected to him, somehow. But now she thought of the warning Herr Schwarz had given her. And her reaction was, so what? So far she hardly had time to spare a thought for romance. Tension, yes. Dangerous truth sharing, yes. But romance? She could spare an objective thought now for Snape as a romantic partner, and nearly laughed out loud. Physically he was hardly attractive, at least at first glance. 

Upon second glance and calling up memories, she felt warm and fuzzy at the way his subtle expressions could show her his mood and change hers. She remembered the way she was able to make him relax those tense shoulders. And suddenly she found herself very curious at what she would find during a full-body massage. She had promised one, after all.

Snape looked up and Liz blushed as he caught her staring. He quirked an eyebrow and said, "Finished."

Liz grinned as she read it out loud. " _ Truly impressive rare power. Imagination and persistence in the face of pure horror. _ " She had to hold back laughter as she reached the end. " _ Hogwarts will miss her this summer, you lucky bastards. _ " And then she lost her wits entirely, needing to set down the parchment so that she could hold her sides as she laughed. It was a deep, tension-draining fit of giggles, and she kept it up until happy tears fell down her face.

Snape rounded the desk and summoned his own handkerchief from Liz's pocket to wipe her face. Liz got herself more or less under control and said, "It's wonderful, but they'll never believe it's you."

"Oh I don't know. I have spent some time with Healer Kayson myself, and he too likes to use humor to ease the tension, especially with the rather stressful team he manages." As Snape said this, he went back to his chair and sealed the form shut with his wand. "There, and this should dispel any doubts to its authenticity."

"Thank you, and I see what you mean about stress and humor. I feel..." Liz took a deep breath, and it felt better than any she had taken in the last few days. "...better."

They stared at each other for a moment.

Then Liz remembered, "Oh. Yeah. Here." She pulled another parchment from her stack and handed it to him. "This is a list that Madam Pomfrey and I made this morning. Please mark the ones you can make for her, and I will fill an order for the rest."

She watched as he checked a majority of the lines with his quill. Then he paused and looked directly at Liz. "Many of these are not above you. Do you have time this afternoon and perhaps tomorrow to work on them?"

Liz caught herself before she dropped her jaw. He was asking rather casually, but it would be quite the honor to work side-by-side brewing with a Potions Master. "Definitely. Actually, I appreciate the opportunity."

Snape nodded and checked a few additional lines on her list. He led her through to the storeroom and loaded her arms up with ingredients. As he selected some to carry himself, he said, "It seems I will have to do some re-stocking myself, after today. But my supplies are better when selected fresh, so I will have to go to London."

Liz knew an opening when she saw one. "Could I possibly go with you? There is one more task I should like to do in London before I start my internship."

"Dare I ask what it is?"

She smiled. "I don't know... I think it would be better as a surprise."

He said nothing more, and he showed her to his private workroom. It was a very large lab with bright white marble floors and countertops. There was a glass workbench, another supply cabinet, and an open shelving unit full of various cauldrons.

It was wonderful.

"If you like," said Snape, "I could find you some of your own workspace for the school year. A healer should have ample opportunity to practice brewing."

Liz could only nod. He was being very generous. She had barely scraped the marks for his N.E.W.T.-level class, though he knew she did just fine experimenting on her own. Her intense focus on musical applications of her work, even in potions, distracted her from the general academics, and she had no illusions about her mediocre performance in the classroom. This offer made her wonder if he was up to something, but she hated feeling mistrustful of him.

For the remainder of the afternoon, they brewed. He instructed her as necessary, showing her some helpful tips and tricks. When she realized they had both arrived at a state of alert relaxation, Liz wondered for a moment if he actually liked teaching. Something, however, held her back from asking this directly.

When they were ready to bottle their potions, Snape brought out a set of vials and instructed Liz on which potions belonged in glass versus steel and what sort of stopping (cork, wax, etc.) to use. But as soon as Liz picked one up from the racks, she nearly dropped it. There was a relief marking on the vial, the same S-bend and letter D that she was sure she had seen before. Of course. She had seen it here at Hogwarts.

"What is this mark? Is it the glass maker's mark?"

Snape did not even look up from his bottling task. "No," he said. "The glass maker kindly puts it there as a way for us to distinguish which potions at Hogwarts were made by me personally. Given my close supervision today I think we can safely bottle your brews in them."

Liz was breathing very slowly, trying to stay calm. He seemed to have noticed her distress, for he finally stopped his task and focused his attention on her. Finally, still staring at the vial gripped tightly in her hand, Liz said, "Well, then, Professor Snape, would you care to explain why this same mark is printed inside the cover of my mother's diary?"

Snape was silent, so she turned her glare upon him. 

"Well?"

"So," he said, very slowly, "She actually used it. I must say I am gratified that all the work did not go to waste."

"What was her plan for me?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." The look on his face was one of guarded concern.

"Fine," she snapped. "But you're going to. It's a potion key encryption, isn't it? No wonder I struggled to understand the lock. You, sir, are going to help me read my mother's diary."

Snape gently pried the vial from Liz's grip. Liz looked at her now empty hand and found it had started turning purple from the strain of her grasp. "Healer Althea," he said, in the most gentle voice she had ever heard, like fine, smooth velvet, "you should go rest. I will finish bottling. And I will help you with the diary, but not today."

\------------------------------

Liz had another restless night. These nightmares were getting out of hand. Nothing that Pomfrey had in stock or on order would work for her, and she wasn't sure if Snape would be able to brew her something better. Besides, it was far too soon for any of the Dark Lord's followers to know that magical healing brews just don't seem to work for her. They might start to wonder about her other weaknesses.

She sighed. If the nightmares got worse one more night in a row, she would swallow her fear and ask Snape for help.

But help came with the post owls at breakfast. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Hagrid, and Flitwick were all in attendance, and those who received correspondence either tucked it away for later or did not take long to read it. So everyone had their eyes on Liz by the time she looked up from examining the plain little package wrapped in brown paper. She could feel the good will emanating from it, and she knew it was from another True Healer. Could it be Socorro, or one she already knew?

She glanced around the table and shrugged to herself. What harm could there be in opening it now? She tore open one end of the paper and two items slid out. One was a round object which Liz identified immediately and the other was a plain white card with a few lines of text.

_ Dear Little Bear Paws, _

_ Sometimes we need the nightmares to sort out our trauma and tell us when things are wrong in the world, but when they get to be too much, hang this over your head. _

_ With Love,  
_ _ Mama Bear _

Liz could not help the big smile on her face. Everyone was still staring, so she passed around the card, but she held the gift reverently in both hands, examining the delicate weaving and tiny glass beads.

"Well," said McGonagall, "What is it?"

"It's a dreamcatcher," supplied Flitwick. "But I've never seen a real one."

Liz nodded and got serious. "Yes, those retail gifts and crafts are abominations. A real dreamcatcher is made and given with a specific recipient in mind. The maker or giver imbues the item with love and affection, and any other method to obtaining it creates bad karma, maybe even evil."

Snape handed the card back to her. "Little Bear Paws?"

Liz smiled again, more softly this time. "The bear has many symbolic meanings to American Indians, but the Lakota people, and some other plains and woodland tribes, recognize the mother bear as a healer. This Mama Bear taught me about herbal healing, but she has many other talents. Her actual name roughly translates to 'Weaver of Dreams,' since she likes to work in dreamscapes and astral projections."

Dumbledore leaned forward, "Is that how she knew... ?"

"I have no idea how she knew what I needed. Honestly, on the North American prairie is where I learned that in this world, you will  _ never _ know everything there is to know. And on the reservation I learned that nothing else makes people suffer quite like generational oppression and poverty."

Everyone seemed a little uncomfortable at this statement.

Liz stood and abandoned her breakfast. "Excuse me. I think I ought to smoke the pipe and meditate on these aboriginal histories and mysteries before I speak any more of them."

Lizzy took her new dreamcatcher, fetched her smoking case from her dormitory, and turned back to make her way up to the astronomy tower. It had been four years since she had seen her friends among the Plains Indians, and several months since she had spared more than a moment's thought for them. She had been perfectly serious about going off to smoke.

She was just one stairway landing away from her destination when Snape caught up with her.

"We meet again," she said. "You know, Dumbledore already thinks there is something going on between us. Perhaps this classic location for adolescent trysts is not the best place to be alone with each other." She winked.

He glared.

She smiled an exhausted little smile at him.

He said, "Minerva reminded me that as your Head of House it falls to me to be sure you were not intent on indulging an unhealthy habit."

Liz glanced briefly at the case she was carrying. Then she sighed. Good odds he was also on orders to suss out her secrets, and she thought it might be interesting, for once, to be the teacher between them. "Come. Smoke with me, and I will explain as best I can." She led him the remainder of the way to the top of the tower. There she selected a low stone wall on which to sit and gaze at the sunrise.

They sat on that same bench, but the case was between them and they were turned slightly toward each other.

Liz opened the case. "This top layer contains my two pieces. The green velvet bag holds the glass for smoking green." She looked into Snape's eyes for some recognition of the term, and he gave her a hard look but said nothing. So she continued, "And the black velvet bag holds the tobacco pipe." She gently removed the bag and emptied its contents onto the cushioned lid of the case.

Snape gazed at the pieces of the pipe as though he had never seen the device, and he probably hadn't. Few really had.

Liz selected and handed him the stone half. "This part is the pipestone bowl, which represents Mother Earth." Then she traded him for the other part. "And the wooden shaft represents Father Sky, to whom the tree reaches."

She closed her eyes and drank in the feeling of the raw magic around them gathering.

"These parts are why I chose the tower. We sit on stone, but feel close to the sky. And when the Mother and the Father join together, _Creation_ happens." Liz opened her eyes to find Snape staring into them. "Creation of all kinds. The obvious conception, the initiation of treaties and peace, the forming of new ideas and plans, and any other kind of inspiration that may happen when meditating alone or together."

As Liz spoke, the currents of magic that she felt were pulling up around them, bringing a very real force to the ideas she was expressing. Snape sat completely still, and apparently did not dare to take his eyes off her.

She broke eye contact first, to join the two pieces of the pipe. "Once the pieces are joined, the pipe must be smoked. Please hold it while I prepare the tobacco."

He gingerly took the instrument, and Liz continued as she lifted the top layer out of the case and gently set it aside. "Typically, the novice or newcomer approaches the elder or resident with a gift of tobacco, as an honorable exchange for wisdom or training. I will provide the tobacco today, but if you seek any more lessons in these mysteries, you must come to me with your own."

"I understand."

"Now, in this layer of my case I keep all the consumables. We'll pass on these bags for today," Liz gestured to the two strains of weed. "And we shall focus on the purity of the leaf tobacco." She prepared a small pinch and placed it in the bowl of the assembled pipe. "Continue to hold the pipe, just like this." She guided Snape's hands to hold the pipe steady out in front of him.

And then Liz closed her eyes again, placing one hand on the stone bench and one hand in the air, drawing the currents of magic. And she sang. It was a slow, ancient song, just one line asking nature for the gift of knowledge and the wisdom to understand it. At the conclusion of her song, she opened her eyes and quickly struck her hands together in a thunderous clap.

Snape jumped a little, but held fast to the pipe, which was now lit.

"And now we smoke." Liz demonstrated the first puff and passed it on to Snape. He was really a very quick student, and he had said very little. She was pleased that he was simply taking in the moment.

But it didn't last long. "May we speak during this part of the ritual?"

Liz smiled. "Of course."

"I have seen raw magic drawn that way before, but never grounded as such."

"Ah. Well, I'm sure you're aware that raw magic must be ground through an anchor, and for most of us that's our wand." She grinned. "And of course, drawing it through the flame under the cauldron to ground out in a potion, though it seems my classmates don't really appreciate the significance, even at the N.E.W.T. level."

They shared a smirk.

"But I learned to smoke the pipe in a culture whose magic pre-dates wands. The pipe itself is the anchor, accessed through this ritual of its own symbolism. The sound of the thunder clap accompanies the flash of lightning, and it is a powerful way for sky and earth to meet. But just as the light and sound dissipate, so does the power. It lights the bowl and then returns from whence it came: the stone, the sky, you and me."

The moment stretched on through another pass of the pipe. Snape held it close to examine it thoroughly, and he asked, "How did you come to possess this?"

For a brief second, Liz considered launching into another tale of friends who suffered, but she had only just started to relax and didn't want to start this day by reliving any more trauma. Instead she simply said, "It was a gift from someone I healed."

He didn't press her further.

A silence followed as they passed the pipe, and Liz let her mind wander. She thought of their time brewing yesterday, and felt totally relaxed, despite the awkward position on the hard surface. She was very tired, but very hopeful that her new dreamcatcher would help her get some rest. And she thought of her mother.

"Where are the premises for Fatin's Looks?" Liz asked abruptly, not allowing herself to consider questions which at present had no answers.

She could see Snape shaking himself out of his own thoughts to answer her question, which he did with a question of his own. "Would you like to see the facility when we visit London today?"

Liz smiled a true smile again. It was the second time already today, and Liz thought that maybe life was looking up if she could feel an involuntary pull toward delight twice in one day.

"This will be a big trip," she said. "Perhaps we should get going."

\------------------------------

The weather was terrible again. Liz put on several layers of modest grey clothes, but she still felt the chill of a heavy fog as they stepped into Diagon Alley. As they walked swiftly to Gringotts, she could not help a few shivers.

Snape said, "The fog is from the breeding Dementors. If you focus on a feeling of hope, the cold will not affect you so."

Liz blinked. Dementors? Yikes. Liz focused on the hope of never seeing them again, but she was a little too realistic for that fantasy. Instead, she switched to the thought of the safety she felt by being with Snape, and the hope that their day would be a productive one, and she would soon be back at Hogwarts, getting cozy with pyjamas, slippers, and a blanket.

She had to stop herself short of cozying up with a certain tall, dark, and complicated man under that blanket.

At Gringotts, Liz withdrew a purse of gold from the ample hoard in her own vault, checked that her belongings from the house made it safely, and then went to examine her parents' vault. In a gesture most unladylike for her, Liz dropped her jaw at the mountain of gold. "I knew The Raven Witch turned a profit," Liz said, more to the room than to Snape, but then she looked pointedly at him and added, "and I suppose I should have expected this when I discovered mum's ownership stake in Fatin's Looks."

A moment passed in silence as Liz took a brief account of the contents of the vault. She was specifically looking for any clues about her mother's diary or plans for Liz, but she found nothing obvious. She did pocket one book, stuffed with parchments detailing pureblood family trees. In the meantime, Snape stood still at the doorway, next to their goblin escort. Each of them was tapping one foot impatiently. Finally, as she was beginning to give up on the search, Snape said, "I suggest you let it sit. Go on as you would have without this fortune. Live on your own means as long as you can. It seemed more than sufficient."

She nodded, unsure exactly why tears pricked her eyes as she turned her back on this vault.

Eyes dried, their next destination was the apothecary. They selected supplies for Hogwarts, and Liz filled the order of potions for Madam Pomfrey's ward which they would not have time to complete themselves.

Then they were off to the glassmaker's shop. A little bell rang as they entered, but Mr. Sayer was not out front. "Come in! I'll be out in a moment!" he called from the back room.

Liz took the moment to examine some fine crystal jewelry on the far wall, and Snape inspected a set of etched tumblers among the barware.

When Mr. Sayer appeared about thirty seconds later, he saw Liz first and came over to shake her hand. "Young Mistress Althea, welcome back. Would you care to see my newest pieces?"

She smiled warmly and did not bother to correct the recent change to her pureblood title. Her mother was mad, not dead, even if the pureblood aristocracy would treat it the same. "I think I may be selecting a necklace first. May I try them on while you take care of the Professor's needs?"

"Of course, of course."

Liz busied herself with the delicate glass beadwork as she eavesdropped on the men. Snape was simply making a change to his usual order of potions bottles and vials. When Mr. Sayer tried to upsell him on a certain design, Snape shot him down quickly, snapping that he should not waste his better materials on the lower form students. Liz was grinning and putting a necklace back on the rack when Mr. Sayer and Snape both stepped near. "So, what do you think?"

"I'm sorry, Mister Sayer, but none of them seem quite right. I'm rather particular about the few jewelry items I own. And I'm afraid I am not in the market for a new  _ piece _ quite yet. Amalaki is still exquisite and performing nicely."

"Well this will not do. After --" He glanced at Snape, suddenly unsure. "-- After what you did for my daughter, I think you should have only my best work. I will design a new necklace for you, one so fine you cannot refuse. I will send you a sketch tomorrow."

"Take your time, Mister Sayer. I'm sure it will be fantastic. And be sure to quote the price fairly for yourself. I expect to pay a premium for custom crafts."

"You are too kind." He shook her hand again. "I wish all my clients were so kind-hearted, and honest, and dependable, and --"

"That's enough, Mister Sayer. I wish you many sales today." She pulled her hand from Mr. Sayer's grip and turned to Snape. "Shall we?"

He held out his arm to escort her, and she took it.

An astonished Mr. Sayer quietly stuttered, "G -- Good day," as they left.

Liz wasn't sure where Snape was directing them next, but she followed his lead in silence, until his curiosity seemed to get the better of him. "What happened with his daughter?"

She rolled her eyes and smiled. "I healed her." She did not want to irritate him with this brief answer, just like the one about her pipe earlier, so she added, "And in return, he insisted that I have my pick of his finest wares. Luckily, I was ready for a new glass pipe, and Bardolf Sayer has some amazing pieces. Someday you will have to see for yourself the wonder that I found in his back room."

Soon Liz realized that Snape was taking her to the premises for Fatin's Looks. When they arrived, a young receptionist with dirty blond hair and a goofy grin greeted them. "Master Snape," he said, "Welcome. May I have the name of your guest for the register?"

Snape looked at Liz. She turned to the receptionist and said, "Persephone Lysandra Althea."

His face lit up. "Mistress Althea, I'm so sorry I did not recognize you. My name is Ken Trace and I am at your disposal."

Liz frowned. This was the title she was expecting in pureblood circles, but she was starting to think she might prefer a professional title as Healer Althea. But she didn't have time to properly think it over right this moment.

"Trace," said Snape, "I'll be giving the lady a tour of the facility. If we are not back here in thirty minutes, come see to our needs."

"Of course, Master Snape. It was very nice to meet you, Mistress Althea."

It was a small operation. There were two potions makers creating the goods (They did not look up from their tasks, and Liz amused herself by imagining Snape's classroom sneer and derisive wit coming down on them should they make even the tiniest mistake.), one quality assurance expert handling the bottling (Her face was obscured behind a protective mask, and her hands were covered by the finest dragon-hide gloves, but she managed to wave one of them in between spell-testing samples.), a stocker who organized the warehouse and shipped out the products (The warehouse itself was a floor-to-ceiling treasure trove of high-quality beauty products.), and of course Ken Trace doubling in reception and security. 

One office door was closed, and Snape explained that it was a marketing workroom, where Sila had always worked, warded thoroughly to protect their intellectual property and financial books. 

Despite the little manpower, the magic in the process made production very efficient, and in the 10 minutes that they simply watched, two thousand units were shipped and re-stocked. "The whole team works a six-hour shift," Snape explained. "In the morning, they come in for product testing and facility maintenance. Then in the afternoon, they spend four hours working as you have seen."

"And you?"

"When inspiration strikes, I find some time to come in and work in a room down this hall." He gestured toward the East wall. "It's my private lab, where new products are created."

"And my mother?"

"She was brilliant with marketing. She chose product names, designed labels, demonstrated products, and networked to find new clients. She also found all the talented people you've met here today, and the two more who have today off."

Liz frowned. "I don't think I'd be very good at filling her shoes." Suddenly Liz felt exhausted, and she wanted to cry but the tears wouldn't come this time. She was talking about replacing her mother, even in just this one role, and it was disturbing to her, much more than the awkward dance of pureblood titles.

Snape saved her from delving too far down this depressing road. "No one will be able to replace her. The next time you visit, you should ask Trace about the effect Sila had on this place. I will find a new marketing specialist, and we will make do. I have checked the contract that we originally drew together -- as long as she lives, your mother's income from this venture will continue to be deposited at Gringotts, without your having to make any decisions. For now, I suggest we continue with any final errands you wish to make, and then we head back to Hogwarts."

And so they said their goodbyes to Trace and stepped once more into the street. Liz led the way, not stopping to acknowledge Snape's hesitation when she steered them down Knockturn Alley. She was impressed when two minutes passed and he had not asked where they were going, so she decided to tell him. "We are going to The Inker's Mark." She drew Healer Kayson's patch from her handbag and handed it to Snape for examination. "I will be applying this to my skin today."

And a few steps later, they were at the entrance. A tinny old bell rang when she pushed the door open, and the wizard at the desk looked up in delight. "Lizzy!" he boomed, his pointed hat nearly falling off with the excitement of his jumping to his feet. "What a treat! Come in!"

But then his face fell when he saw Snape. Liz was troubled, but saved from asking the question when Snape spoke. "Mister Perrowin, I see you have let me down again. Such a talent in potions, wasted."

Liz was disgusted. "How rude! And false, too! Andrew Perrowin is a master of inks. It's a niche specialty in potion-brewing, for certain, but not insignificant. I was going to let you watch, Severus Snape, with the Inker's permission of course, but not if you cannot keep a civil tongue."

Snape, thoroughly scolded, handed over the patch he was still holding. "My apologies, Mister Perrowin. The lady requires this image to be inked on her skin, and I would be honored to witness."

Liz smiled. "That's better. Andrew, do you mind?"

"Haven't the slightest idea why you want him here, but it's fine by me."

"Excellent," Liz said, removing her cloak. "I'm thinking the right shoulder blade," she continued, shedding her outer cloak and drawing her gray pullover slowly up over her head to reveal a gray spaghetti-strapped shirt.

Perrowin flicked his wand at the door, locking it and pulling a shade over the window.

Satisfied with this privacy, Liz seated herself on a chair specifically designed for comfort while receiving tattoos on one's backside, and removed the shirt. Then she pulled up her hair into a bun, pinning it with magic, and removed the right-side strap of her bra.

"Yes," said Perrowin, holding the patch against the correct position. "This will do. Far enough away from the Parisian seal, and may I suggest a tad larger than its actual size?"

Liz pursed her lips, trying to imagine it.

"Ah, you will like this. It's lucky for me that you are so fond of Mister Sayer, and that he's such a brilliant craftsman. Look at the glass over there. It's a viewport through this other glass here." He picked up a handheld glass in a frame, and the mirror reflection in the large glass on the wall changed. 

A second later, she was looking at her own back, and agreed. "Yes. Just a touch larger. And how ingenious! This must make many of your clients more comfortable with your more brilliant ideas while they still have a chance to decline."

"Indeed. Excuse me a moment. I will need to prepare my materials."

"Certainly. In the meantime, Professor, would you like to hear the stories of the other marks you see?" She was not looking at him, and she indulged in an image of him fidgeting with discomfort at this moment that was both intimate and businesslike.

Finally, he said. "If it pleases you."

"It does indeed." Liz closed her eyes and remembered. "You've seen the Parisian seal before. It was rather a scandal when I showed up to the ball sporting it before I became a full member, but I had lots of support from people who count.

"Above it, at the nape of my neck, is a kanzashi hair clip dangling from a willow branch. Kanzashi are worn by maiko, junior geisha in training. I did not and have no intention of completing my training, but the time I spent in Kyoto and Tokyo was very important to me. There is a misconception in the West that geisha are little more than made-up prostitutes, but they are fantastic musicians and dancers and hostesses, among other arts.

"Below the seal, down in the small of my back, is the tiny pair of serpents that Andrew inked for me. In the last few years I have adorned myself with several snakes. In many of the most ancient belief systems, the snake was a symbol of the Earth Mother, who was a nurturer and healer."

Liz could have gone on, with two more marks already visible and three more he could still not see. However, Perrowin returned, saying, "Well then, Liz, let's hear the story of this new one before I take care of you."

"Andrew, I'm not sure if you know... mum and dad were brutally attacked a few days ago. Mum is mad and daddy didn't make it, despite my best efforts."

All the color drained from Perrowin's face.

"When I woke up in the hospital myself, Healer Kayson gave me this patch, saying that I may as well have it. I will be working with him at St. Mungo's for the summer. I'm sure you can imagine that these events have had a life-changing impact on me, and you know how I feel about permanent reminders."

Perrowin was nodding, obviously still a little shaken by Liz's cold account of the recent past. But Liz's eyes wandered to Snape, who was gazing at her with a most peculiar expression. When it hit Liz what that might mean, she said, "Do you have something to say about permanent marks?" She meant it to be scathing, to bite with the knowledge that he was forever branded as property of the Dark Lord, but somehow it came out with exhaustion, with sadness, and a brief twinge of wonder at what would happen if she touched his Dark Mark.

Snape didn't respond, but Perrowin was clearly getting frustrated. "What in the hell is going on between you two?"

Both of them turned on him with a glare, and then Liz nearly giggled at the sight of him shrinking back. "I'm sorry Andrew. Please continue with the ink. I am suddenly feeling quite tired and would like to go home soon."

As Perrowin worked, Liz considered her statement. Home. Home was such a fluid thing to her, having traveled so much. Before... well, before, Liz would have said that "home" was the same as "with mum," but now she wasn't so sure. Hogwarts was a good candidate, and she was starting to feel downright comfortable with Snape. Still, she should probably acquire some temporary residence in London for the summer, even if she would not really consider it home.

A few moments later, the job was done and the price was paid and Snape and Liz were heading back to Hogwarts. The sun was dropping and the mists grew dark, and Snape bade her a curt good night at the entrance hall.

Somewhat startled by his abrupt departure from her side, Liz wondered if maybe she had stung him a little today, after all. She wondered if he was irritated that she would not be the brilliant business woman that her mother had apparently been. She wondered if he thought she was showing off at Gringotts and Sayer's. And she wondered if she had let him see too much when she allowed him to accompany her to the tattoo parlor.

She made it halfway to her room on these thoughts, but she stopped and slunk down against the wall with the sudden urge to see Riley. He would probably not be able to offer any practical advice, but he always listened so well, even when Liz's half-truths didn't make any sense. She wanted desperately for a friendly ear, one whose motives she didn't have to second-guess. She knew better than to put any of this in a letter, so for now she was stuck with her own thoughts.

Her own thoughts were not quite enough. Liz was ready to get moody with music, so she retrieved her guitar from her travel trunk, restored it to its proper size, and strapped it on along with her cloak.

On her walk, she tuned the guitar with a spell (invented by herself and Flitwick), and practiced a few chords and notes, reveling in a sound which she had denied herself for some time. Her hands may be her trump card right now, but maybe she wouldn't be opposed to playing until her fingers bled if it just made her feel less conflicted, less grieved, and less lonely.

Liz wished she could go sit at the lake, but it was probably dangerous to go out alone at night. Instead she went back up to the astronomy tower, and for a brief moment relived the scene where she and Snape had smoked in peace. She lazily strummed while she thought about the interactions she'd had with Snape as a teacher and Head of House.

He was so different during this time off from school, when she could interact with him alone and almost as equals. It reminded her of the fifth-year career counseling sessions, where he was downright respectful of the musical plan that she was sure he would scorn as wasteful. She spared a thought for their old classroom dynamic -- mutual indifference -- and not for the first time thanked her lucky stars for her steady hand at the cauldron.

Two of Liz's patents were on brews she developed during the prior school year for combination cleaner/polisher formulas that she could use on drum chrome and cymbals. She had spent many hours laboring over the possible combinations. This year she wanted to work on a new potion to help soothe her throat in between long sets -- the drawback of current options is that they require long periods of rest after drinking, and she wanted to get right back on stage and belt out another set. She briefly wondered if Snape could or would help her choose base ingredients. She wasn't exactly his star student, but maybe if she gave him the rights to the final product, then she could get his cooperation with both this project and the diary decryption.

And thus Liz's thoughts arrived at her mother and father. She sighed to herself and chose a song for distraction, rather than soul healing. She wished she had her pedal case and mini-amp for this track, but it wasn't like that would work at Hogwarts anyway. She'd have to do her best with the instrument she had. She played it with B-minor voicing, and she was pleased with the resulting sound.

_ "Over the Hills and Far Away" by Led Zeppelin _

_ Hey hey, you got the love I need  
_ _ Maybe more than enough  
_ _ Oh darling, darling, darling, walk a while with me  
_ _ Ohh, you've got so much, so much, so much _

_ Many have I loved, and many times been bitten  
_ _ Many times I've gazed along the open road  
_ _ Many times I've lied, and many times I've listened  
_ _ Many times I've wondered how much there is to know _

_ Many dreams come true, and some have silver linings  
_ _ I live for my dream, and a pocket full of gold  
_ _ Mellow is the man who knows what he's been missing  
_ _ Many, many men can't see the open road _

_ Many is a word that only leaves you guessing  
_ _ Guessing 'bout a thing you really ought to know, oh, oh  
_ _ Really ought to know  
_ _ I really ought to know _

_ You know I should, you know I should  
_ _ You know I should, you know I should _

More acoustic tunes in minor keys carried her through another hour of relaxation, until she felt fine enough to try to sleep. Back in her dorm, Liz dressed in the coziest flannel pyjamas she owned, carefully hung the dreamcatcher, and piled on the quilts, cocooning herself in layers of the best comfort she could manage.

The next morning, Liz woke up before dawn but thoroughly refreshed, so she had an early breakfast alone before returning to the infirmary, determined to do some good work during the short time of her agreement to stay. She dressed in practical black trousers and a blue long-sleeved blouse, ready to get to work. She called upon Lippy, who was pleased to be spared from the kitchens for the morning, and the two of them cleaned, scrubbing every nook and cranny, disinfecting every bedpan, dusting every shelf in the storecupboard, and so on. They worked the rooms from top to bottom, and they were about to polish the floor when the people began to arrive to see Liz.

First was Flitwick. "You've been busy!" he squeaked, startling Liz and making her jump. "Oh I'm sorry dear -- I did not mean to frighten you. I've never seen this place sparkle so. Poppy should be quite pleased."

Liz quirked an eyebrow. "I am sure her opinion of me has nowhere to go but up. I'm trying to make it as easy as possible to forgive me."

"And, Miss Althea, should I forgive you too? I went to the trouble of convincing Albus and Minerva to offer you a home this summer, and now I hear you'll be leaving us very soon."

Liz was immediately crushed by her guilt. "In two days, yes. I'm sorry, professor. I did not know that it was your idea. And even so I should have stopped by your office to visit by now. Mealtime chats are simply not sufficient."

"I agree, my dear. Perhaps we can indulge in a mid-morning tea?"

"Of course. Let's borrow Madam Pomfrey's office, shall we? Lippy? Could you bring us tea? Thank you." Liz led the way and took Pomfrey's chair behind the desk. A tea tray appeared a moment later between them. "Ah," Liz sighed after a good sip of the strong black tea.

And they talked. They talked about music; they talked about her upcoming internship; they talked about her recent performance at the Raven Witch (was that really only last weekend?); and finally Flitwick broached a subject which Liz was quite unsure how to handle.

"So," he said, examining the tea leaves at the bottom of his cup, "I hear you have been spending most of these last few days with Professor Snape."

Liz nodded slowly, trying carefully to choose her next words. Finally, she gave up and blurted, "Is it weird that I like him?"

Flitwick smiled kindly but did not answer.

Liz could not help blabbing to break the silence. "I mean, I have always respected him. He makes himself so unapproachable, but that's probably important for... Anyway, my world has been shaken so thoroughly, and I cannot help but think of everything and everyone differently. That is, when I have time to think at all. And I know I'm a hormonal teenager, on top of all that. I may be vulnerable, but I have been for years, and I think he is, too, with how easily I've pushed him around lately, and... I don't know. I like him." She blushed at her lame finish.

Flitwick considered his tea leaves again before responding. "Professor Snape is a complicated man, so it makes sense that when you get close to him, the feelings you have are also complicated. I will not pretend to trust him to the extent that Albus does, but it does the heart good to think of him associating with a talented young lady."

Liz let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.

"On the other hand, Miss Althea, you are still a student of this school, and as such, it would not be appropriate to pursue a normal, open relationship."

Knowing her face was falling, Liz could not bring herself to care that she should have put on a stoic look. With the way her world had fallen apart just a few days ago, it was getting harder to care about appearances. One good night's sleep did not make up for the rollercoaster of death and loss that she'd been riding for several days. She choked back a sob. "My daddy is d -- dead. My mum is mad. My home is packed up and abandoned to avoid my bully grandmother. The Dark Lord... well, let's not even go there. I want to go see my best friend, but I'm afraid I'll get him killed too. I've upset everyone at Hogwarts. And I just want to do right by one person -- the one person who helped me the most -- and I can't do that?" Tears were falling now. She was losing it again, and she hated it again.

But the wild hysteria did not come. Liz was able to set down her teacup, despite her shaking hands, then fold her arms on Pomfrey's desk and bury her face in them to have her cry out. A minute later, she was still shaking, but lucid enough to sense Flitwick hop down from his seat and come over to her.

She did not look up, but she felt him pat her head and smooth back her long hair and say, "I said you cannot have something normal, but I expect your life will never feel normal again," before making his exit.


	6. Bruises On The Fruit; Tender Age In Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: CONTENT WARNING. RAPE SCENE. This is where you might want to review this story's content warnings and take this last chance to turn back.

#  P1Ch6 Playlist

Something really awful happens in this chapter. There are no named songs. The chapter title is a lyric from Nirvana's 1991 song "In Bloom", which you can listen to on Spotify at <https://open.spotify.com/track/30HCB1FoE77IfGRyNv4eFq>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 6: Bruises On The Fruit; Tender Age In Bloom

A few moments later, Liz pulled herself together, cleaned up her snotty face, and considered her next task. With the infirmary already spotless, there was not much left to do, unless she felt bold enough to organize Pomfrey's patient files. No, she should probably begin writing to her contacts in London to arrange for summer lodging, since she was intending to leave soon. She had the funds available to rent a place for herself, but she did not think she could handle living alone. As she cleared the tea tray and retrieved parchment and quill, Liz thought about Bardolf Sayer and his daughter. They lived in a little 2-room flat over the glass shop in Diagon Alley, but the girl was only 9 years old. Perhaps they'd have room for her to stay.

No sooner had she written "Dear Bardolf," did the door to the ward open again, and this time Liz was met by someone she had not seen in years. She set down her (actually Madam Pomfrey's) stationary and stepped out into the ward proper. "Why Prof -- I mean, Mister Lupin! Long time no see! What brings you to Hogwarts?"

"Miss Althea, it is nice to see you again. I had some business with the Headmaster, and he told me that you are a gifted healer and may be able to handle something for me discreetly."

Liz smiled and gestured for him to take a seat on a nearby bed. "No need to lie down, yet. Tell me more about this  _ something _ that troubles you."

He blushed as he hopped up on the bed, feet dangling over the side. "Well, it's a rather personal nature..."

Liz hopped up on the bed across from him and took the same position, but holding up her hands. "Nothing can faze me."

"Well, I ache."

Liz raised an eyebrow.

"In my, well, in my genitals."

"Ah. A dull ache? Or more sharp?"

"Er, I guess, dull."

"During elimination? Sexual relations? Certain hours of the day?" She paused for just a beat to consider how one might delicately ask about werewolf physiology. "Er, certain times of the month, maybe? Or just all the time?"

His eyes narrowed. "Dull all the time. More like,  _ pinchy _ when having sex."

She nodded slowly. "A pinch in the testicles, perhaps?"

He squirmed, but the ah-ha moment was plain in his expression. He clearly knew that she had a good theory already.

She had a duty to be thorough, so she asked, "And have you tried any self-diagnosis or treatments?"

He shifted in place again. "Well, erm, I have recently become, er, intimate with a new partner, so we did some tests. Those came out negative, and she was not pleased that I didn't take her word for it."

Liz flicked her wand to call for the parchment and loaded quill she had just put down. Since he was stammering over the subject she scribbled a quick list and then stood to hand him the supplies. "Cross off the ones you did yourself. I know the test charms for all of these."

He visibly relaxed and did as he was told.

As he handed back the parchment, Liz asked, "Now before I do the rest of these, tell me, do you also use a contraceptive charm? Perhaps the  _ contraceptus totalis _ ?"

His face lit up. "How could you guess that?"

While she talked, Liz wordlessly began the test spells, all glowing with green light from her wand. "Well, it's quick and easy, and very effective even if performed just prior to a sex act. That makes it very popular in the Western world, but in some cases it has been known to cause stress on the body with repetitive use." She smirked, and held back an inquiry about the lucky lady who was receiving his many attentions. Instead she quickly wrapped up the remaining tests. "Well, Mister Lupin, you are clean. If you have been intimate near daily for some time then I would bet a sizable amount of gold that the  _ contraceptus totalis _ is the culprit of your discomfort. If you prefer that I do a physical exam, I will, but if you haven't noticed any other symptoms then I will probably not find anything."

Lupin looked conflicted. Liz could guess why. Instead of waiting for a response, she took pity and continued.

"Luckily there are many alternatives to  _ contraceptus totalis _ . None quite so convenient, but many are just as effective. What do you know about the  _ contraceptus impedio _ , and how it is different from its  _ totalis _ brother spell?"

Liz watched as Lupin wracked his brain, clearly giving it proper thought. Finally, he said, "Well, if I remember right, it has to be done at least an hour before the, er, relations, and it's  _ not _ as effective."

She smiled and leaned back on both palms, hoping she looked as relaxed and pleased as she felt about teaching another Westerner the real difference. "Let me tell you about Kochi-san, my lover in Japan. He follows a traditional style of magical sex that is very ritualistic, utterly boring in my opinion, but -- most importantly -- planned ahead of time. It's a bit of a class thing, and these wizards typically use  _ contraceptus impedio _ , because it is very effective when applied at least  _ three _ hours ahead of time, and it lasts about a day. I'd recommend reapplying every 12 hours for those marathon weekend trysts."

Watching Lupin's face as she lectured was fascinating, responding to every word with just the right expression. When she offered a wink with the word  _ tyrsts _ , he blushed a little. She suddenly felt a stab of jealousy toward the mystery woman he was bedding, but shook it off to continue.

"And so, since that style of sex is so coordinated, the  _ impedio _ is used frequently with great success. If you think you can handle that kind of planning, then the  _ impedio _ is also significantly safer than the  _ totalis _ , and it's because the  _ impedio _ inhibits sperm motility, whereas the  _ totalis _ is spermicidal -- it kills them. It borders on dark magic, in my opinion, and does not surprise me in the least that some men experience side effects."

Lupin's expression grew dark. "I had no idea that these spells worked in those ways."

"Most don't. The  _ totalis _ was actually never meant to be applied to a person directly. It was to be used on contraceptive products like condoms, but those have never been popular among wizards of any culture, and it's generally frowned upon to try and help the muggles that way." She couldn't quite keep the bitterness out of her voice at that last. "Anyway, if you have a spontaneity problem with the  _ impedio _ then there are still other options."

"I'd love to hear them."

"Well, first is like I just said, cast  _ totalis _ , but on a condom. Easy, but witches and wizards generally prefer no condom. Other methods would all be applied to your lady friend instead of yourself. You can try the  _ totalis _ on her, but I don't recommend that approach. It must be done after the act, so it would probably ruin any post-coital mood, and women tend to have worse reactions than men. If she's not opposed to a muggle implant, there are some highly effective devices. Then there is a monthly potion which prevents ovulation, which is what I do recommend, as long as she's willing to carefully track her hormones. And another potion can handle rare cases of the morning after an encounter where preventative measures were not taken. It uses the killing method, too, but as long as it's truly for accidents only..." she winked again, "we all make mistakes. We are only human."

She got a nervous laugh out of him for that. It wouldn't occur to her until much later that he would appreciate her labeling him as a human instead of a werewolf.

Liz shifted to sit straighter, a more serious note creeping into her tone as she spoke. "And even though these potions are bit beyond my own skill, I believe there is a Potions Master currently in residence at the castle, so let me know if he gives you any trouble about brewing these for you."

He looked impressed. "You'd go toe-to-toe with Snape for me?"

"I'd certainly try. Reproductive health is a torch I carry. I spent a couple of summers in places where the culture is rather different, where girls are purposefully fed myths about their own bodies, young women make serious compromises, and older women do horrible things to their own daughters in the name of  _ tradition _ . I'm rather well-versed in the field of sexology. Please contact me again if you have any further questions or concerns. I would be most happy to help."

Lupin nodded. "Would it be all right to have my..." he seemed to struggle for the correct label, "partner write to you? Her name is Tonks, and, if I have it right, then her last year at Hogwarts was your first. She's an auror, and I think she'd like you."

Liz smiled broadly, and genuinely. "Please, I'd love to have a bit of a penpal while I'm in London this summer. I think, yes, I think that I'd like that very much."

\------------------------------

Liz was in a happy place, basking in the accomplishment of a job well done and excited about the prospect of a new girl friend. Instead of finishing her letter to Bardolf, she wrote a quick one for Tonks, introducing herself briefly and asking what type of music she liked. Since Tonks was an auror, she might be athletic, maybe even interested in dance, and Liz had been thinking since her story time about Semaki that maybe she was finally ready to dance herself silly with another friend.

So Liz was very late to lunch, and Hagrid was the only person in the Great Hall when she arrived.

She had a bit of a soft spot for Hagrid. His love for animals reflected her own love for all living things, and he had been extremely patient and understanding when she did not show up for class on the day the fourth-years studied unicorns. Normally Liz had no problem being the first volunteer during Care of Magical Creatures, and the awkward conversation about the unicorns had been mercifully short. Talking about the unicorns had made her feel soiled, but Hagrid had excused her from making up the class and given her a big hug.

She got another hug today.

But she cut him off before he could offer condolences. "Hagrid, you're a peach, but I really don't want to talk about it. I am sick of crying, and I had a really good morning. Tell me, instead, what fantastic beasts you have tamed for us this coming year?"

"Aye, yer my best student, Lizzy. S'not fair to the others to give yeh such a head start!"

Liz offered him a coy smile. "Who has to know?"

"Ah, and me favorite Slytherin, to boot. Maybe when school starts yeh can come help again with ter mooncalves."

"Sure, Hagrid," she said gently, tucking into her lunch. Early in the fifth-year curriculum, the students were supposed to go into the forest to collect the dung from the two resident mooncalves, but Liz's class didn't get the chance. The ominous buildup to the Dark Lord's return, as well as the large population of Triwizard guests, kept the shy creatures in their burrows, and Hagrid had enlisted Liz's help to sing them out, at least long enough to clean up the mess they were making in the burrows. It was sad but important work.

The rest of lunch went the same, Hagrid teasing Liz about being too good for her House, and Liz teasing back that Hagrid was too good for his students and should focus on beasts.

Liz was taking her last bite of her fresh garden salad when Professor McGonagall strode into the hall and directly to Liz.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Liz said politely, if a little stiffly.

McGongall was all business. "Miss Althea, please report to the infirmary at once. The Headmaster is waiting."

Liz nodded, gulped down a bit of pumpkin juice, and bade goodbye to Hagrid. 

The scene in the hospital wing was a somber one. Dumbledore had indeed arrived, with several others in tow. Snape was levitating a girl, who Liz recognized as a first-year Slytherin named Julia. Two more adults were helping arrange her gently into a bed. They were instantly recognizable as the girl's parents, due to their similar coloring and facial features. Very pale German. Julia pronounced her name with a y-sound for the J.

Liz gulped heavily. Julia was unconscious, and her parents had very severe expressions.

"Miss Althea," Dumbledore rumbled quietly but with authority. "Thank you for seeing Mister Lupin this morning. I will admit I had not anticipated his need, and  _ this _ is the second case that I asked you to consider for our agreement."

"Yes, of course. I will do my best," Liz said, trying her damnedest to stay calm for the girl's parents.

"You know Miss Julia Blumwand, of course, as a fellow housemate. These are her parents, Thomas and Marlena Blumwand."

Now that Liz got a closer look, there was something familiar about Marlena Blumwand, but Liz pushed it aside -- it must be that she and her daughter were so alike. "Mister and Missus Blumwand, I am pleased to meet you, though most uncomfortable with the circumstances. What has happened to Julia?"

"That is partially why we are here -- to gain more detailed information about the incident. Perhaps," Dumbledore gestured toward the office door, "we could talk privately about what is known, while Severus and Julia's parents get her settled."

Liz nodded and hastily retreated to the office, choosing the seat behind Pomfrey's desk. If Dumbledore thought she was overstepping, he did not say so. She did not offer refreshments, and refused the lemon drop that Dumbledore held out for her.

"Well, Miss Althea, I am most unhappy to report that Julia was attacked, here at Hogwarts, the night before everyone went home for the summer holiday."

Liz's eyes narrowed. Attacked at Hogwarts?

He was holding his wand, summoning a parchment, but he said, "I know. Most regrettable. Madam Umbridge had already returned to the Ministry, but was concerned that the incident would reflect on her leadership, so she extended her influence to cover it up. Back at Hogwarts, we attempted to heal Julia, and physically she is fine, but she has retreated into her own mind, and has been in this coma since. Severus and I are both skilled legilimens, but she has gone so far into her own Misty Place that we dare not press on. We need a way to call her out. Severus suggested asking you."

Tears slipped down Liz's cheeks. No. Not Julia. She was a spunky little first year, and Liz liked her a lot. She couldn't be broken. She couldn't be like Semaki. This was even worse than what happened to Sila.

"Please pull yourself together, Miss Althea," he said softly, handing her the parchment. "Can you help?"

Liz wiped her tears with the back of her own hand and took the proffered document. It was Julia's record from Pomfrey's files. Her stomach churned as she read about the damage Pomfrey had found. Julia wasn't just attacked. She had definitely been raped. It infuriated her that Dumbledore didn't just say so, and she had to take a steadying breath before she admitted, "I don't know. I need to meditate, to see if I can remember an old song for calling back a broken child. The last time I tried it, well, it did not work. But Semaki did not have anyone else to call out to her. If her parents will sing it with me, I think it might work for Julia. She might answer the call from people she trusts."

\------------------------------

A minute later, Snape was escorting the Blumwands out of the ward, as Liz came back in to take her first readings. Indeed, Julia's condition was much like Semaki's had been, although she was mildly sedated. That would most likely wear off by the time they were ready to begin treatment. Liz tipped a nutrient potion down Julia's throat before going directly to the front lawn of Hogwarts to meditate by the lake.

It did not take long to find the correct tune in the labyrinth of her memory, and the lyrics followed with the music. The words were in an ancient African language, long dead, and she carefully transcribed their phonetics (with rough translations) so that she could teach the others. They did not have the power of her Siren's Song, but if they sang from their hearts, the suffering child might answer in kind.

They were all waiting for her when Liz returned to the infirmary. She handed Julia's mother the parchment, and the men gathered around to read over her shoulder. After Liz checked Julia's condition again, pleased to note that the sedative was out of her system, she explained how she marked the portions which Julia's parents should sing along, and then, she said, "Anyone with no intention of singing her back to us, needs to leave now. You must believe, without a doubt, that she will come when called, and you must want, with all your heart, to have her back. There is no shame in admitting your doubts, and those of us who stay will not judge those who leave."

Dumbledore immediately rose, and beckoned for Snape to come with him. But rather to everyone's surprise, Snape looked speculatively at Liz, gravely at Julia, and then defiantly at Dumbledore. Dumbledore, to his credit, looked ashamed of himself and took his leave.

Liz gave Snape and the Blumwands a small smile and said, "All right. This may take many repetitions. The first time through, just listen carefully to me, to the tune. Follow along on the parchment to be sure you read the phonetic spellings properly while I sing them. I will repeat for as long as it takes, hours, days even. When you are ready to join in, then do so."

And without any hesitation, Liz began.

It was a slow but bouncy tempo, typical for call-and-response singing. It included a verse about their grief at her absence, a verse about their optimism for her return, and a verse about the journey she must take to reach them. It was really a very simple song, which was great. That meant it was easy for Julia's parents to understand, easy to memorize, and easy for the girl herself to respond if she could and would.

Liz repeated the song twice before Snape joined her. She was a little startled by his rich baritone, shamefully surprised by the smoothness of his voice -- she should have known better, after listening to that warm velvet voice in class for so many years. On the next repetition, both of Julia's parents joined the song, and Liz's heart filled with hope and the sheer emotion they poured into the words.

They sang for nearly four hours, and then Thomas Blumwand's voice cracked out and came back hoarse. He openly sobbed, and Liz and Marlena both cried through one more repetition of the song while Snape disappeared into the storeroom.

Snape handed them all a dose of a soothing potion. Liz eyed hers suspiciously (as suspiciously as she could with puffy, red eyes), and then Snape's empty hands, before tucking it in her pocket. Her voice was not too raw yet. She had the practice of the stage, and she did not want to be hampered by the resting time required by this potion. "You should all go to supper in the Great Hall," she insisted. "I will administer a nutrient potion and continue the song until you come back."

Thomas croaked out a quick "Thank you" and squeezed Liz's hand. Marlena squeaked "danke schoen" and embraced Liz in a brief but firm hug. 

"Bitte schoen," she whispered in reply, then turning promptly back to Julia and beginning again.

About thirty minutes later, Snape returned. Liz finished the current iteration of the song and paused. She could feel her vocal cords starting to strain, and she gave Julia her nutrient potion, hoping Snape would have something to say that would give her a longer break.

He did. "The Blumwands are resting in quarters supplied by the Headmaster, who expresses his deepest regrets and shame on behalf of his doubting heart. He hopes that you do not mind his continuing to scour every book he can lay his hands on for an acceptable alternative should we fail."

Liz smiled and shrugged. She had announced already that she would not judge, and she hoped she would not have to scold Snape for doing so.

Thankfully, he quickly changed topics. "I could attempt legilimency while you sing. I could go further to look for her, if I can hear you to call me back. And now that I, too, know the song, I could sing to her from within, and maybe she will answer more easily."

Liz's smile dropped off her face. It was a dangerous proposition, but she would be lying if she said it had not occurred to her as well. She sighed slowly. Quietly, she said, "Her parents should be aware of any treatment that we try."

Snape nodded slowly, and Liz wondered if he truly had any scruples about informed consent, or if he simply could not afford to offend her, as the only person who could reasonably rescue him from Julia's Misty Place.

Liz sighed again. "For now, let them rest. Sing with me?"

Another nod.

And so they sang.

\------------------------------

The Blumwands apparently had a nap, returning over two hours later but immediately taking up the song again mid-verse as they came to Julia's bedside. As that repetition wound down, Snape tugged at Liz's arm and guided her to the door. After the very last syllable, he pulled her into the hall while the Blumwands continued the song inside.

"Miss Althea, you -- your voice is cracking, badly. Take the potion and go eat something."

She glared at him. She heard his own cracking, and he was talking much, much slower than normal to hide it.

"I will take it too, and while you eat I will suggest the new treatment."

Her frown quickly turned up, but then dropped back down again. "But the potion..."

"Yes, its effects are limited if you continue to stress yourself after taking it. I am not a dunderhead, Miss Althea, and neither are you. Now go eat something and don't be a fool."

Liz did not go to the Great Hall. If anyone was there, she could not bring herself to interact with them. She needed to save her voice for Julia and for Snape. So, as the clock struck midnight, she went straight to the kitchens, and Lippy set a bowl of brothy soup in front of her. "Mistress Lizzy should be sipping on this. Professor Snape is telling us about all the raw throats for the girl who is hurt."

This produced a smile from Liz, who very carefully sipped spoonfuls of the soup. Ah, it was not too hot. Lippy really knew how to take care of her.

Well-fed and surprisingly refreshed, Liz returned to the hospital wing, pausing just once at a wide window to gaze out at the setting sun. She breathed out a single-line lament for the suffering of the innocent, pleased that her voice had rapidly recovered during her short break. She wasn't tip-top, but she could sing for a couple more hours without breaking again. She spared a moment to wonder if Snape had already improved the soothing potion.

When she finally made it back, she listened as they finished another iteration of the song. Snape had noticed her arrival, and he held up a hand after the final word, halting the song entirely. Thomas Blumwand spoke to her, "We consent. Please proceed with the treatment. Should we continue to sing with you?"

Liz nodded. "Absolutely yes." Then she came up next to Snape and took his right hand in her left, initiating a small ritual she had witnessed only once before. "A hand to anchor you, a voice to guide you, and a soul to yearn for your safe return." And then the song began again.

She watched as Snape laid a hand on Julia's head, whispered " _ legilimens _ ," and then closed his eyes in concentration. He sang along with the rest of them, searching Julia's mind.

Liz had a moment of doubt, about two verses later, when Snape stopped singing. Liz fought to keep her nerves under control, and allowed her longing to pour out in the song. Liz was absolutely amazed, truly and utterly impressed, when it only took two more repetitions for Julia to join the song, singing the final response line of each verse. Her eyes were still closed, and she did not move, but her lips quivered as her neglected voice strained to be heard. Liz nearly wept, and the Blumwands did indeed, so Liz hastily whispered "Don't stop!" to them in between verses.

Snape's expression had gone slack, and he barely whispered the same response lines as Julia. Liz firmed up her grip on Snape's hand. They had Julia within reach now; both of them would be saved.

After several more verses, what seemed like an eternity, both Snape's and Julia's eyes flew open. Julia screamed as if in pain, and Snape bolted to the lavatory. Marlena Blumwand descended on her daughter, embracing and kissing her as Thomas Blumwand sobbed over them. Liz stood back, and she rocked awkwardly back and forth between her two feet. When she heard Snape retching from the other room, she knew where she was needed most.

Snape had made it to the toilet. Excellent. One less mess in this world for Liz to clean up. She conjured a glass of water and a cool, damp wash rag. Snape started violently when she pulled his long hair aside, nearly knocking her on her arse, but then he relaxed when she pressed the cool cloth to the back of his neck, forming it over his shoulders to hold itself in place.

"Here," she said, "Water," and she pressed the cup into his hands.

He dutifully swished and spit, then swallowed a gulp of the water. A moment later, he was hauling himself up off the floor, pulling Liz up with him. They stood for a moment, very close in the cramped toilet stall, and Snape finally said, "You did it."

Liz couldn't stop tears from leaking once again. " _ You _ did it."

He lifted one hand to her face, gently wiping the tears from her cheek. "We need to see the Headmaster."

Liz sniffed and nodded. They walked past the Blumwand family, bawling but reunited, and made their way to Dumbledore's office.

The Headmaster did not look up from his books as they came in and sat down. "I do not have a reasonable alternative to try yet."

"No need," Snape said.

That got his attention. "She's back with us?"

Liz and Snape both nodded.

"Well then, we should retrieve her memory before too much time passes."

"No need," Snape said again. "I have it here." He tapped his own temple.

Liz had never seen Dumbledore look angry before this moment. His voice was calm, but the disappointment was so thick that Liz nearly wished he shouted when he said, "We agreed to retrieve the memory directly."

"Well, Albus, I had an opportunity to save her, and I took it. She bargained with me, agreeing to come out from the Misty Place only if I would teach her to hide the memory deep, where she would not feel it so vividly. She allowed me to see it before she buried it. It would be cruel to force her to dig it up again."

Liz felt her face blossom into a grin. He had definitely done the right thing!

"Now please take it for the pensieve. I suspect I will not want it back."

And Liz's face fell again. If a man as cold and experienced as Snape was sickened by the incident, then she may regret her own words from earlier.  _ Nothing can faze me, _ indeed.

Dumbledore looked resigned. "I suppose this will have to do. A secondhand memory may not be used as evidence legally, but there was not much hope of justice anyway, and we must at least remove any rapist from among our students or staff." He then arranged the pensieve on his desk and collected the memory from Snape. "Well, Miss Althea, by playing your part I believe you may have a right to know what happened."

And then all three of them were sliding into the memory. It was slightly fuzzy, not crystal clear like viewing her own had been. But it was plain as day what had happened.

Julia was alone, making her way from the kitchens to the Slytherin common room, a path that Liz knew very well. A path that Liz knew held many empty classrooms. It was downright cliché, the way one of those classroom doors opened with a soft creeeaaak, pausing Julia in her tracks. But before she could produce her wand (did Julia even know any suitable defense jinxes?), she was grabbed by the wand-arm and dragged into the room. The three memory witnesses were able to come in before the culprit could handle holding the girl and locking the door behind them.

It was Corey Warrington, a Slytherin who just graduated. Liz fumed. She helped that son of a bitch get his ugly face back after the nasty hexes started flying against the Inquisitorial Squad. She didn't need to expose her hand-healing to cast a quick counter-hex for a housemate.  _ We Slytherins have to take care of our own _ , she had said. Bloody bastard! If she ever saw him again, she'd show him exactly how she'd take care of him!

Her fury turned to nausea, however, as she watched the scene unfold. Warrington had quickly disarmed Julia and silenced her with a spell before proceeding to grope her small body. When she struggled and screamed, he gripped tighter, grinding against her. Liz took an involuntary step backward and bumped into Snape, who raised both hands to her shoulders to steady her.

Then Warrington started to pull off Julia's clothes. Julia was wandless and pinned, but not totally at his mercy. When he reached too close to her face, Julia bit him. Liz could feel no sympathy for the shriek he produced.

"Little bitch," he had said, grabbing a handful of Julia's hair and swinging her head down, connecting on a nearby desk with a serious  _ thud _ that clearly left Julia disoriented. The rest of the memory was mercifully fuzzier after that. The boy then flicked his wand to disrobe them both and bent Julia over the desk.

As if the act in itself was not sickening enough, he coldly and methodically cleaned her while he violated her. He used his wand to siphon the blood from his hand and her mouth, and when he was finished with her, he cast a  _ scourgify _ charm directly in her bruised orifice to remove the traces of himself. Liz winced in sympathy as memory-Julia twitched in pain at the abrasive spell on her sensitive flesh.

One last time, Warrington grabbed Julia by the hair and banged her head on the desk. The memory was almost entirely haze now, but Liz could just make out the boy dressing himself, when suddenly the classroom door handle jiggled, and Warrington slipped into the shadows, and Julia finally passed out.

  
  


\------------------------------

The two men were talking, but Liz was not listening. She could hear them, distantly, much like the sound in Julia's memory after her head injury. Sitting perfectly still, Liz moved nothing but her eyes to see that she was in her now-customary chair next to Snape across the desk from Dumbledore. 

They were still talking, and she still couldn't hear them.

Suddenly, something Liz had to do became very, very obvious. As she held up her wand in her right hand, she was dimly aware that Snape and Dumbledore ceased their discussion. She did not care if they watched. All the better. She carefully used her left hand to gather up half of her long, dark hair.

" _ Diffindo _ ."

And then the other half.

" _ Diffindo _ ."

And some of what was left on top was still just a little too long.

" _ Diffindo _ ."

Then she sheathed her wand, looked Dumbledore straight in the eye, and said, "I will not provide an enemy with such easy... leverage." She broke off the gaze to see the waves of raven locks around her feet. She must look ridiculous.

Snape cleared his throat (the first sound in some time that Liz heard clearly) and then produced his own wand to gather up every strand. "Persephone, you should not leave all this lying around for your enemies either." He conjured a red ribbon to tie them up, then handed her the bundle. She did not look up, but gazed in contemplation at the hair as she turned it over once in her hands.

"Thank you." She gulped. "I would not be surprised if Julia decides to wear her hair short as well. I will try to make mine look a little better for her, and help her with a normal sense of adolescent vanity."

Snape's voice was soft, more gentle than she'd ever heard it, when he said, "Your mother developed some very interesting hair glamours. May I?"

At the mention of her mum, Liz's chest constricted. Too many ladies near and dear had been raped. Staring sadly at the hair in her lap, she nodded, and Snape raised his wand. He tapped the bundle of hair, and then her head. She did not catch the whispered spell, but she felt the return of a light weight on her crown, the touch of strands brushing the sides of her face. She leaned forward to see its length -- a cute bob.

"It should be very natural indeed. It will behave just like your own hair. However, if anyone touches it with ill intent, they will pass right through it. You will probably need to replenish the glamour shortly before school starts again in September. I will teach you the spell then, if you cannot find it in Sila's notes."

Liz nodded, and briefly wondered if he wore the same glamour. "Thank you." She would need to visit her mother soon and thank her, too, even if she wouldn't understand.

"I should not receive your thanks today." Snape's face, which Liz finally looked into, was the most expressive she'd ever seen it. It was heartbreaking that the expression was pure guilt. "I am responsible for my Slytherins."

Liz shook her head. "No. Don't be like that. Only one man is to blame. Do not relieve him of his misdeed by trying to take it upon yourself."

"Well said," Dumbledore's voice made her jump. She had quite forgotten in whose office she sat. "Miss Althea, Severus, you both have interesting senses of justice. I will leave the ongoing care of Miss Blumwand, and all the Slytherins, in your capable hands, but I will see to it that Mister Warrington never steps foot into Hogwarts again.

With that, they were dismissed, and a moment later they were in the corridor, both hesitant, very slowly traipsing back to the hospital wing. Liz was surprised when Snape broke the silence first.

"Damn him, ordering us to care for Julia, as if we had no intention of doing so."

Liz bristled, mildly irritated that he was letting himself get agitated. She relied too much on his cold calculation and calm logic in the face of evil and madness. "On the contrary," she said, as calmly as she could, "He was delegating something that I would prefer we handle in-House anyway. He just gave both of us authority over the underage wizards who might need a guiding hand they trust a little more than they trust him." She shrugged. "Besides all that, it's wartime now, isn't it? He has to give orders, whether we intended to accomplish the task or not."

"What do you know about war?" he snapped. "You're an extraordinary girl, but you can be just as stupid as the others. You still don't have a safe place to stay in London, or have you?"

Liz took a deep breath and counted to three before releasing it. "I had plans to make, just no time to make them."

"A thin excuse," he sneered, "and upon just whose doorstep were you planning to show up tomorrow?"

Liz almost told him; he knew Mr. Sayer anyway, but she bit her tongue. It wasn't really his business, and it was time to regain control of the moment. "To reclaim the focus of this conversation, I will say this: I am glad that Professor Dumbledore is not going to meddle with Julia's recovery. She will benefit the most from seeing those of us who called out to her, from knowing that we wanted more than just her account of the attack, and that we actually want to have her with us."

Snape's sneer loosened into a general frown. Very quietly, he said, "She could not hear her parents. She could barely hear you. Her Mists were swirling in a way I've never seen before, and it played tricks with the sounds. She could not find her way to us until I went looking for her. And I, too, would not have found my way back if not for your hand holding mine."

Liz did not know what to say, so she said nothing. She knew about the swirling mists. When Liz had described Semaki's condition to the Moon Priestess, and it was she who told Liz about the true depths of the Mists of Mind. It was the Priestess who said that Semaki had hid so deep she could not even find herself in the maelstrom of pain and fear. It was the Priestess who had taught Liz the song they used today, the rituals that could be used if only Liz could find a single blood relation to help sing Semaki back. Grief washed over Liz again for her failure. Helping Julia was small comfort.

Liz shook herself out of the past just before she and Snape arrived at the infirmary. He was reaching for the door, when she caught his hand and asked, "Why did you call me Persephone in front of the Professor Dumbledore?"

Snape gave her a measured look and said, "Because you deserved something more intimate than  _ Miss Althea _ to match the display you had just put on for us." Then his lip curled, and he admitted, "I may have also done it to keep the Headmaster on his toes."

Liz smirked, but then she thought of the sentence that had followed her given name in the Headmaster's office, and she put on her best serious expression. "Thank you for collecting my cutoff hair. I must admit I would have no use for it but to destroy it." She withdrew her hand from his and retrieved the banded strands from the pocket where she had them tucked. "Are there any potions for which you might need this?"

Snape stared at the bundle which Liz presented.

Liz was accustomed, at this point, to the pauses he took while considering his next move, but this one stretched on in an uncomfortable silence. "Something wrong?"

He shook his head slightly. "No. But, before you give me such a valuable item, I must ask, do you know the Healer's Gift Potion?"

Liz was gobsmacked. "I was told it was a myth. The only book I ever found it in was an old set of tall tales."

"No," Snape said, never taking his eyes off the hair. "The Healer's Gift has been shrouded in myth and superstition to prevent the strong possibility of brewing it as dark magic, which occurs when the Essence of the Healer is taken by force, as opposed to given freely."

"Oh." Liz's eyes flew wide. "Oh! That's why it was so important not to leave it lying around!"

Snape nodded once.

Liz looked down at the locks in her hands and then back up to his face. She swallowed hard as she considered all the times she may have been careless with the stray strands of her hair, fingernail clippings, hell even her tampons and tissues. Nothing to be done about that now, she supposed, but she would make a habit of always carrying a handkerchief. She was pretty sure she still had one of his stowed in a pocket. Finally she said, "Please take this gift."

Then he finally did. As they continued on their path, he explained the other thing he would need from her to even get started with the Potion: "The next time you cry tears of pure grief, you should collect them, too, and, in the case you are too distraught, you should instruct your most trustworthy friend to collect them for you."

She wondered at the further implications of multiple bits of her Essence as a Healer in the potion. She wondered if there would be other parts or secretions of her own body to be used. There was so much potential for this potion to become the darkest of dark magicks, if anyone had a notion of spilling her blood. It was too late to take back the Gift she had already given, but she would have to decide, sooner than later, if she could and would trust Snape to brew a potion straddling the Grey Line of Intent.

Her gut feeling was yes, but her mind wasn't made up. Either way, she'd collect those tears, as instructed.

It wasn't long before Snape and Liz entered the infirmary and found the Blumwand family all cuddled up on Julia's bed. All six eyes were puffy, but no one was currently in tears. Marlena sprang up and rushed to throw her arms around Liz again. "Danke, danke, danke, danke..."

Liz awkwardly patted her on the back and said, "Bitte, bitte..." but then Marlena abruptly let her go and flung herself at Snape as well. In the meantime, Thomas rose to his feet and came over to shake their hands and pull Marlena off them.

"We are in your debt," Thomas said.

"Nonsense," insisted Liz, stepping toward Julia, "We are happy to have you back, my dear. Now let me have a look at you." She waved her wand, casting a diagnostic spell and throwing a few sparks to see if Julia would follow them with her eyes. The girl's reflexes were a little slow, and she seemed a bit unfocused, but when Liz reached to check the wrist-pulse by hand, Julia threw her arms up and yelped. Liz drew back and smiled softly. "I'm sorry, Julia. I will not touch you if you don't like it."

Julia, in a show of great strength, took a deep breath and nodded. She stared down at her bedding, but she said, "You called for me."

Liz smiled brighter now. "Yes, I did." And that moment of lucidity was all Liz needed to declare Julia fit to go home with her parents. "However," she added, "it is rather late now, and I suggest you take advantage of the quarters provided here at Hogwarts tonight. We can see you off after a late breakfast, and I would like to do a followup exam at least once a week until school begins again."

The adult Blumwands looked at one another, having some sort of nonverbal exchange.

Snape stepped in, "Miss Althea and I will both be leaving the castle tomorrow for our own summertime pursuits, but I think we can both make arrangements to visit in your home."

"Oh good," Thomas said, while at the same time, Marlena began to ask, "Wo wohnen -- I mean, where do you live? Are you connected to the floo? Das ist leicht, richtig?"

"Ach..." Liz felt very silly. "Ja, stimmt, aber... er, I have not made living arrangements in London yet." She dared not look at Snape, for he was surely returning to his foul mood from earlier.

"Sehr gut!" exclaimed Marlena. "You can stay with us!"

"Indeed," Thomas added, "We have a spare room, with our adult daughter abroad. We can key you to the floo lock, so that you may come and go as you please. It is the least we can do. Please accept this."

Everyone was looking at her, and she looked back at each one in turn. Thomas returned her gaze steadily. Marlena wrung her hands. Snape ever so slightly inclined his head. Julia smiled.

That did it. She couldn't deny that smile. "Let us discuss the details over breakfast in the Great Hall, shall we?"

Marlena clapped, and Liz saw Thomas let out a held breath. Snape gave her a full nod this time, and Julia smiled brighter. It was Julia who said, "Professor, how will you visit?"

"My home is not connected to the Floo Network, but we can arrange that tomorrow as well." Snape sounded downright gentle, as he addressed Julia directly, before turning to the room at large. "For now, we should all get some rest. Good night, everyone."

Another round of handshakes occurred with a chorus of "Good Night," "G'night", "Til Morning," and "Gute Nacht" echoing in the room.

Then Snape took Liz by the elbow and hauled her quickly out of the ward. They hardly made it ten steps before he was snapping at her again. "Do you have any idea how disgustingly lucky you are? And how important it is that you stay with them?"

Liz blinked in surprise. She did not feel very lucky at all, not with the week she was having. But, yes, she could see some good come out of living with the Blumwands.

Apparently Snape saw something dawn on her face. "That's right, Miss Althea. What is it that you have finally figured out?"

Liz glared at him, hoping it was as nasty as his sneer. "They are relatively secure, what with a floo lock and possibly other wards. I can simply floo to St. Mungo's for work and not have to travel at all to see Julia, so there is not much risk of exposing myself to an enemy." She paused here, suddenly feeling very silly about her hair. She was intending to go on, but Snape cut her off.

"Yes, yes," he snapped, "That's all fine but very self-centered. What else?"

Liz wrenched her arm from him and rubbed the spot that was sore from his iron grip. Snape continued the hurried pace, and Liz struggled to keep up as she spoke again, "Well, Julia may benefit from additional attention, and I suppose it will be better for you, too. Having a regular appointment to see Julia will make it less suspicious when you come to collect me for the Dark Lord."

Snape suddenly spun around and caught her up in his arms, lifting her off the floor. "Yes!" he hissed, burying his face in her neck and kissing her there, her pulse fluttering under his lips. "Yes," he said again, setting her down and wiping the sudden stupid grin off his face. "So rarely does someone else's fortune coincide with my own. If you had not made sufficient arrangements on your own I would have been forced to insist that you stay at Malfoy Manor with your uncle, and that would have been unpleasant for all of us."

"Indeed," Liz agreed, a little breathless from Snape's display. Lucky again, they were just a few steps away from the Slytherin common room. "Would you --" Liz paused, unsure of how to continue. This time Snape did not cut her off, but gazed into her eyes while she tried to find the words.

She felt a little nudge on the edge of her consciousness, and her eyes flew wide for a moment when she realized he was asking for permission to read her surface feelings. She drew forward the feeling of joy at seeing his rare smile just a moment ago, and she nodded slowly.

Without breaking eye contact, he slipped in. And then he slipped back out again just as quickly as he had entered. She said quickly, "No promises. I just want to see how this plays out."

He shook his head, his expression unreadable. "Get some rest," he said, bringing the back of her hand to his lips for a lingering kiss, "Good night, Persephone."

Then he turned on his heel and walked away.


	7. You Never Know Just How You Look Through Other People's Eyes

#  P1Ch7 Playlist

  * Title track: "Pepper" by the Butthole Surfers 1996
  * "My Friends" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers 1995
  * "Barely Breathing" by Duncan Sheik 1996



Chapter 7 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7MPM2kmFWj2yYbJcqNS1pp?si=RCM0N63aSZqpgI5oDBSpCw>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 7: You Never Know Just How You Look Through Other People's Eyes

Liz slept soundly. She was surprised to wake up refreshed, having expected the nightmares to come back tenfold after all that excitement. It was nearly eleven when she finally pulled herself out of bed to get dressed. She found a soft, stretchy green dress with babydoll sleeves and a length just above the knee. Very comfortable. Possibly a bit too girly cute, but she wasn't sure she could handle sexy right now. She picked out flat sandals to wear instead of boots, exposing the snake tattoo coiled around her left ankle, and decided a little gold anklet would be nice right below the snake. She kept her normal concealment glamours on the tattoos around the right ankle and over her heart.

She gave her new hair a quick look in the mirror (the bob cut and babydoll dress was extra-cute), touched some pale bronze gloss to her lips, and then packed up her belongings. She took extra care wrapping up her dreamcatcher -- it was a very special item to her now.

And speaking of special -- wow, the Healer's Gift. Liz considered what she knew while she finished packing. Liz did not know the myth of the Healer's Gift by heart, but there were a few details that intrigued her. The potion called for various human-sourced ingredients, including "The Essence of the Healer" as the primary ingredient. She vaguely remembered thinking that it had to be blood, but now she wasn't so sure. The effects of the potion were not clear either, but could be anywhere from simple pain relief to something as miraculous as bringing someone back from the brink of death.

It could be a rather handy tool in wartime. She wondered, for a moment, if Dumbledore knew it was more than a myth, or if this was a secret that Snape shared specifically  _ outside _ the Headmaster's office.

All packed and ready to go whenever the Blumwands were, Liz headed down to the Great Hall. The whole castle seemed to be in attendance for lunch. Hagrid gave her a second bear hug in as many days. No one gave her any grief about missing breakfast. Even McGonagall looked at her warmly.

Despite the festive mood dragging on for hours, there was hardly time to think among the goodbyes, good lucks, and plans with the Blumwands. She tried to insist on paying some rent, but Thomas wasn't having it. Liz decided to be gracious until she could determine their financial situation -- if they truly could support her, then she would shower them with gifts instead! In a lovely gesture of respect, Thomas and Marlena asked her to call them by their given names, so Liz felt confident that she could find something touching to give them.

Snape was to visit immediately and strengthen the wards, and both he and Dumbledore spoke to Thomas and Marlena about some new ones to apply. Liz tried to listen in on that conversation, but Flitwick chose that moment to admire Liz's new hairstyle. Liz winced inwardly. She'd love to tell Professor Flitwick about her mother's charm, about the whole reason for the new do, but not at a table full of people. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Julia watching and listening. It hurt, but Liz put on her best smile and said, "It's a much better look for summer time, and practical, too, if the weather ever heats up."

"Yes," he agreed, with an awkwardly squeaky voice to contrast with the dark expression in his features. "Though I am sure we have yet to see the worst of the storms."

Liz wiped the fake smile off her face and nodded. "I suppose so."

"But, tell me more about your plans for music during the holiday."

"Actually, Miss Althea --" That was McGonagall, interrupting. "-- Perhaps you'd be kind enough to sing a bit for us. Filius went on for hours after returning from your show."

"Now, Minerva --" Damn it all, now Dumbledore was butting in, too. "-- don't impose on the girl. She certainly has not imposed upon us."

Liz glared at him. He was still sore about her refusal? The nerve! Well, she'd show him. "It's quite all right, Headmaster. I happen to carry a few music boxes for just such occasions." She fought not to giggle at the thought that she expected this to come from the Dark Lord and not them. "Perhaps I can lay it down here on the table and sing a little something slow and sad. But loud. It has to rock and roll, after all." She winked at him.

She could not read Dumbledore's stony expression. "By all means, Miss Althea," he said, swinging an arm out in invitation.

"All right. This song came from an album released last year. The whole album is pretty good, but this song spoke to me."

_ "My Friends" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers _

_ My friends are so depressed  
_ _ I feel the question of your loneliness  
_ _ Confide, cuz I'll be on your side  
_ _ You know I will; You know I will _

_ Ex-girlfriend called me up  
_ _ Alone and desperate on the prison phone  
_ _ She said they'd give her seven years  
_ _ For being sad _

_ I love all of you  
_ _ Hurt by the cold  
_ _ So hard and lonely too  
_ _ When you don't know yourself _

_ My friends are so distressed  
_ _ And standing on the brink of emptiness  
_ _ No words I know how to express  
_ _ This emptiness _

_ I love all of you  
_ _ Hurt by the cold  
_ _ So hard and lonely too  
_ _ When you don't know yourself _

_ Imagine me  
_ _ Taught by tragedy  
_ _ Release is Peace _

_ I heard a little girl  
_ _ And what she said was something beautiful  
_ _ To give your love no matter what  
_ _ Is what she said _

_ I love all of you  
_ _ Hurt by the cold  
_ _ So hard and lonely too  
_ _ When you don't know yourself _

The table was silent when she finished. Liz had closed her eyes at the final bridge, and now she finally looked around. Everyone looked back at her, except Marlena, who was wiping tears away with a handkerchief.

Whoops. Maybe the song was too right, and the call of her Siren's Song beckoned all of them to open their hearts. She usually limited the full pull of the Song for healing purposes like Julia's return, but something about this request made her want to let it all out. Oh well. It was done now, and there was no taking it back. A knowing look was exchanged between Dumbledore and Flitwick. Snape's expression was unreadable.

Liz awkwardly excused herself to the ladies toilet. By the time she came back, everyone had left except for Snape and the Blumwands, and Lippy had arrived. Snape and Thomas were talking in hushed voices. Julia was in her mother's lap, and Lippy was in Julia's. The whole scene made Liz smile a real little smile. Her cheeks were hurting from her efforts to smile today.

They flooed to the Blumwands' home from Snape's office. During the walk from the Great Hall, Liz got a chance to explain that she would be starting her internship at St. Mungo's soon, but she was happy to have a chance to settle in first.

Liz suggested that Julia give her a tour of the home while Snape and the parents worked on the wards. It would be good for Julia to be trusted with an important task while the adults were busy with theirs. Never mind that Liz was seventeen and technically an adult as well.

Julia dutifully showed Liz the family room, the kitchen, and the backyard with a flower garden and two mature trees providing lots of shade and privacy. It was a small house, but nicely furnished and well-kept. The stand piano in the family room tempted her from the moment she saw it -- maybe they would like to hear her play. There was an office the next level up, and three bedrooms stacked high on the stairs -- first up was where Thomas and Marlena slept, then Liz's room, and Julia's at the top.

Julia bounced into Liz's new room ahead of her, and pointed out her sister Sanja in the family portrait on the vanity. Sanja was clearly different from the rest of her family, dark-haired and bronze-skinned, and at least a few years older than Liz.

"Sanja is back in Germany," Julia said, "Studying potions. She wants to brew beer!"

A genuine grin appeared on Liz's face. "Sounds like fun. Were you born in Germany?"

Julia nodded slowly. "But Mutti needed to come here for a new job. She packages and ships products at Fatin's Looks!"

Liz's breath caught. And then her eyes narrowed. What a small world, and what a bastard Snape was for not telling her. She held back a bitter cackle. To cover her surprise, Liz changed the subject. "Does your father work?"

"He works from home," she said, with a hint of smugness. "He translates novels between English and German, and now he is writing his own novel, too." Julia leaned in close. "He has a computer in their bedroom. He says it's much easier than parchment and ink, and there's a whole world of information available. I just play the games."

Liz did laugh this time, while inwardly reeling. Thomas Blumwand had a working computer with an Internet connection, but she had yet to see any sign of electricity in the house. She might have to do some snooping, and then maybe compare notes with him -- she could reveal a bit about her charms for playing electric instruments if he'd be willing to share his method for Internet connectivity in a magical home.

"Liz?"

Whoops. She must have been staring off into space while she thought. "Sorry, I think I'd like to see this computer."

"Let's go!"

"No," Liz said gently. Time for a bit of a lesson for the little Slytherin. "I'll ask your dad about his work at dinner tonight, and maybe if I show some interest in what he's doing, he will invite me to see it. That would be more polite, and it will help us all be better friends."

"Aaahhh," Julia said slowly. "I think I get it. That's a good idea."

"Excellent." Liz sat on the twin bed in the corner of the small room and motioned for Julia to sit next to her. She did, and Liz said, "We should always try to see more than one person's perspective. It will help us understand the world and how the things we do affect the other people in our lives. We call this empathy, and most people have at least a little of it. The best people have a lot of it."

Julia was quiet, clearly thinking hard.

Liz continued, "Some people have so little empathy that they do bad things to other people. We can try to punish them afterward, but a better solution is for everyone to help each other learn empathy before bad things happen. Does that make sense?"

Julia nodded, but tears were leaking from the corner of her eyes.

Taking a deep and steadying breath, Liz slowly reached one arm around Julia's shoulders and let her good will pass through to the girl.

Julia's tears fell in big drops now, and Liz just held her while she cried, trying not to sniffle too much herself. "I --" Julia started, stammered, and started again, "I buried it. Professor Snape helped me bury it. But I can still feel it. It's so scary." Julia then gave a big sob, buried her face in Liz's chest, and let herself weep unchecked.

That's where Snape found them, moments later, hugging on the bed with swollen eyes. Liz saw him come in, and her free hand reached automatically to search her pockets for a handkerchief. Whoops. No pockets in this dress.

"Ladies," Snape said, and as Julia's head shot up from Liz's shoulder, Snape handed each girl a scrap of fabric.

"Thank you," Liz said, cautiously withdrawing from Julia and dabbing at her face.

"Miss Blumwand, your mother wishes to see you in the kitchen to help Lippy with dinner."

"Ok," Julia said, giving one last great sniff and then looking oddly at the handkerchief.

Liz neatly folded the one she held in half and handed it back to Snape. "Thank you for this."

"Yeah," Julia followed suit, "Thanks." Then the girl slid off the bed. Snape was kind enough to step inside the room and off to the side so that Julia would have the full space of the open door to herself.

When Julia was gone, Liz beamed at Snape. "Thank you for noticing her hesitance at doorways."

"Naturally she will need her personal space."

Liz nodded.

"I trust all the tears are therapeutic?"

_ Well obviously _ , Liz thought, but did not say aloud. Instead, she said, "We had an excellent opportunity to discuss empathy, and why it's such a good thing to experience, and why it's such a bad thing to lack."

Snape leaned against the doorframe and sized her up.

"Soon," she continued, "I will tell her about my hair, but first I think I will see if she has any musical talent. You know, a common interest that can ground our friendship in something safe and sane."

He raised an eyebrow but did not say anything.

"And finally," she barreled on, "I intend to be very conscious of my every contact with the boys and men in my life, and be sure that when Julia is watching she is seeing good examples of healthy interactions with them. I want to show her that it's ok to talk, shake hands, dance, embrace, or otherwise be with a male depending on one's level of familiarity, respect, and trust." Liz paused. "This is normally something that children learn primarily from their parents, but since we are at school ten months of the year, I am hoping that you will assist me with this task. Obviously we do not have a relationship like Thomas and Marlena, but I would like to show her something, erm, appropriate."

They fell to silence. Snape stared at Liz, unblinking. She stared back, blinking frequently to soothe her irritated eyes. She removed her glasses to rub them lightly, then wiped the lenses on her soft clothes and put them back on to face the world in full focus. Finally Snape sneered out the word, "Appropriate," and then paused, clearly conflicted. "Persephone, this whole situation is inappropriate, on a number of levels."

A half-grin, half-sneer twisted Liz's mouth. "Of course, but we have had little control over the events of the last week or so. I know we are doing the best we can." Suddenly Liz changed the topic, "Why didn't you tell me that Marlena works for Fatin's Looks?"

"Obviously there were more important uses for our voices yesterday."

Liz looked at the floor, ashamed she even asked. "Of course," she said softly.

"And beside that, Marlena may not be aware that you are Sila's daughter. You should introduce yourself as such sooner than later."

Liz nodded, but inwardly she was screaming. If she talked about her mother she would have to explain why she wasn't staying with her mother.

Snape continued, "Your story might help them put theirs in perspective."

Her heart was breaking. It was all too much. Her parents. Semaki and Julia. The fear of who would be next. The fear of what she would be asked to do next. She wanted to cry, but her eyes had had enough, and all she could do was shut them.

She heard Snape close the bedroom door, and the click of the lock, and then she felt him sit next to her on the bed. "Persephone," he muttered near her ear.

Her breath hitched, but she did not open her eyes. She breathed in the scent of Severus Snape, of spice and darkness.

"You want to see how this plays out?"

Liz nodded.

"Then look at me and answer these questions."

Her eyes shot open, and she lost herself looking into his. His face was a blank slate, but his eyes were alight with passion. She pulled herself together and said, "Pick three."

He seemed about to protest, but then changed his mind. "Question 1: What is the status of your relationship with Mister Rickard?"

Liz frowned. "It was on thin ice already last time I saw him. Since last weekend, he broke it off without really breaking it off. I need to remember to send him a music box with a very clear breakup song set to Howler-level volume."

An interesting glint appeared in Snape's eyes. "He fought for you, against his father. He clearly loved you, and probably still does. So, question 1-B: Did you love him?"

Liz sighed. Apparently he was not going to stick to the three-question agreement, but what the hell. If he had the nerve to ask this question then she could try to dignify it with a response. "It was a school sweetheart kind of thing. I love him a little, maybe. After some practice he was good in the sack. There are a number of  _ ifs _ I can think of that would maybe make it last, but mostly, no, I knew that eventually my music career would be too, er, unpredictable for him, and we'd break up shortly after graduating. And that's not even considering the big secret of my healing powers."

She had felt his hand twitch on the bed next to her when she mentioned sex with Kellan, but he seemed satisfied with this response before his face twisted again into a typical Snapely sneer. "Question 2: Do you see yourself as some kind of savior, healing my twisted soul with the power of love?"

Liz scoffed. "That's daft, of course. I like you. I want to get to know you. If knowing me is going to change you, then that's between you and your personal demons. Purposefully trying to change someone else seems foolish at best."

The sneer softened into a frown, and he very calmly asked, "Question 2-B: Did you not know that the Healer's Gift was originally meant to do exactly what you just discounted?"

Liz blinked, a little startled at this twist. "Erm, well, love is a complex thing. I thought that the healer's love was more  _ agape _ than  _ eros _ , and as  _ agape _ it's generally more accepting of who you really are, with no need to change your essence."

Snape looked thoughtful. Had he really never considered the difference between agape and eros in the meaning of the potion? He changed the subject, "Question 3: Are you prepared to keep my secrets, even from the people you love most?"

Liz smiled softly. "You've seen my Misty Place."

"But it's more than that, and you must be ready. You will have to lie. You will have to isolate yourself from your friends. You will have to stand on the brink of emptiness."

She dared to use his given name, considering the seriousness of what he was asking, "Well, Severus, what do you think I've been doing all these years? I could not tell anyone about my healing skills, only half-truths about the places I'd been, covering up the tattoos, telling no one of the terrors I've seen and the nightmares they caused. Question number  _ five _ , my dear, should not be whether I'm prepared to keep your secrets, but whether you are prepared to keep mine."

There. Challenge issued. The gleam in his eyes indicated that he may have accepted already. But before either of them could say another word, there was a knock on the door.

"Supper time!" called Julia. "Are you both in there?"

Liz got up, unlocked the door, and swung it wide so that Julia could see Snape sitting on her bed. "We'll be down in a minute, all right?"

After Julia bounded back down the stairs, Snape said, "I must go."

"Not staying for supper?"

He glared at her.

"All right, fine. Then I'll see you when you come to check on Julia. What day should we expect you?"

"Wednesday. Early evening. But as you have already experienced, the Dark Lord does not necessarily keep to a schedule." He glared, but Liz doubted it was directed at her when he added, "Nor does the Headmaster."

"Fine." Then Liz pictured some steel in her spine and swept over to press a kiss to his lips. At first he did not move, but she felt the change in his tension, oh-so-slightly relaxing into her. She broke away before either of them dared to deepen the kiss. "Until Wednesday," she whispered.

"Until Wednesday."

\------------------------------

The Blumwands invited Liz outside for a picnic at the side of the garden bed. The sun was bright but low in the sky, and the blackbirds were chattering their flute-like tunes. A lone bumblebee was snacking in the petunia buds. Marlena rambled on about her garden, and how to cultivate some of the more difficult blooms. Thomas looked at his wife, alternating between obvious amusement and reverence. Liz hoped this was typical -- that Julia already had fantastic role models for how to behave in a relationship.

She was still reeling a bit from her boldness upstairs, and she was definitely concerned that Snape had been right about something. Maybe whatever was going on between them was entirely too inappropriate to show off for Julia.

After supper Liz excused herself to settle into her new room, and she sent that music box to Kellan. It was more of a thimble, really, just big and magical enough to have the one track, which she gave a quick preview before sealing it up.

_ "Barely Breathing" by Duncan Sheik _

_ I know what you're doing  
_ _ I see it all too clear  
_ _ I only taste the saline  
_ _ When I kiss away your tears _

_ You really had me goin'  
_ _ Wishin' on a star  
_ _ The black holes that surround you  
_ _ Are heavier by far _

_ I believed in your confusion  
_ _ You were so completely torn  
_ _ It must've been that yesterday  
_ _ Was the day that I was born _

_ There's not much to examine  
_ _ There's nothing left to hide  
_ _ You really can't be serious  
_ _ If you have to ask me why  
_ _ I say goodbye _

_ 'Cause I am barely breathing  
_ _ And I can't find the air  
_ _ I don't know who I'm kidding  
_ _ Imagining you care  
_ _ And I could stand here waiting  
_ _ A fool for another day  
_ _ I don't suppose it's worth the price  
_ _ And worth the price, the price that I would pay _

_ And everyone keeps asking, "What's it all about?"  
_ _ I used to be so certain and I can't figure out  
_ _ What is this attraction?  
_ _ I only feel the pain  
_ _ There's nothing left to reason and only you to blame  
_ _ Will it ever change? _

_ 'Cause I am barely breathing  
_ _ And I can't find the air  
_ _ I don't know who I'm kidding  
_ _ Imagining you care  
_ _ And I could stand here waiting  
_ _ A fool for another day  
_ _ I don't suppose it's worth the price  
_ _ And worth the price, the price that I would pay _

_ But I'm thinking it over anyway  
_ _ I'm thinking it over anyway _

_ I've come to find  
_ _ I may never know  
_ _ Your changing mind  
_ _ Is it friend or foe?  
_ _ I rise above  
_ _ Or sink below  
_ _ With every time  
_ _ You come and go  
_ _ Please don't  
_ _ Come and go _

_ 'Cause I am barely breathing  
_ _ And I can't find the air  
_ _ I don't know who I'm kidding  
_ _ Imagining you care  
_ _ And I could stand here waiting  
_ _ A fool for another day  
_ _ I don't suppose it's worth the price  
_ _ And worth the price, the price that I would pay _

_ But I'm thinking it over anyway  
_ _ I'm thinking it over anyway _

_ And I know what you're doin'  
_ _ I see it all too clear _

Liz didn't put up the dream catcher that night, and she paid for it dearly. Feeling like she hardly got any sleep at all, she threatened to hex the talking mirror in the bathroom, when it dared to comment on the dark circles under her eyes. A minor makeup glamour concealed her exhaustion, and she went back to her room to hang the dreamcatcher and doze a little longer before she was called down for breakfast.

Over the meal, it was Thomas's turn to talk, at length, about his work and his novel. It sounded rather like he got inspired by Harry Potter, what with his main character being a boy wizard whose destiny was to avenge the deaths of his parents that happened while he was an infant. Liz was mildly disgusted that she had to pretend to be fascinated by this story, but she had a point to prove for Julia.

She was relieved when enough time had passed that she felt comfortable swinging the topic over to the computer.

"So, Thomas," she ventured, "Julia tells me that you write at a computer. That must be fantastic compared to quill and parchment."

Thomas Blumwand beamed. "Yes, it rather is. But the real benefit is the research I can do on the Web."

Liz smiled sweetly. "Oh yes, I remember in 1990 when I got to show my mother how I'd done all my music research. And that was just the beginning of the amazing information out there."

"Your mother --" interrupted Marlena, "-- would be Siladora Althea, isn't that right?"

Damn! She had been so close. And now this already? "Yes indeed."

"Maybe you can tell us what happened? At Fatin's Looks, we all got a memo from Severus that she would be unavailable indefinitely. And since you are on your own, that's very troubling."

Liz stared down at her juicy, tender steak and eggs meal. She hoped this was a fairly normal breakfast, and that they weren't indulging in some excess for her sake. After a moment of allowing herself to be distracted by that thought, she said, "Let me put it this way. Today I'll be popping up to the fourth floor at St. Mungo's to see her."

She heard Marlena gasp and Thomas say, "Oh dear," but Liz did not look up from her plate. A moment of silence stretched out, and then Julia said, "I'd like to visit her sometime, too. Whenever I visited at Fatin's Looks, Sila would braid my hair and tell me funny stories about Japan."

Liz fought to keep herself from plunging into hysterics. Wouldn't it be interesting, indeed, if Julia understood Liz's mum better than she did? She filed that thought away for examination later, and finally got herself together enough to look up and say, "Yes, that would be good. Remind me next week to arrange something."

The rest of the meal passed in awkward silence. Liz was incredibly grateful when the post owls arrived. She excused herself to read her mail in the privacy of her own bedroom.

Locking and warding the door, Liz opened a letter of congratulations from Jason Kayson, asking her to report for duty Wednesday morning. Liz checked Sanja's calendar, having lost track of the days. Today was Monday. Wednesday would be a very important day.

But Liz had more mail, and it was a letter from Tonks.

_ Liz, _

_ You have no idea how much I need a friend right now. Can we do lunch tomorrow? Just name a place where you feel safe to meet. _

_ Tonks _

The handwriting was sloppy, and Liz felt the urgency in Tonks' words. She hastily penned a reply about being in Diagon Alley today, and that Liz would wait up on the steps of Gringotts at noon.

And then Liz was ready to see her mum. She found Thomas and Julia in the office. Apparently Marlena had left for work directly after breakfast. "I don't know what time I will be back," Liz explained. "Please do not hold up the meals for me today."

Without any further ado, Liz went to St. Mungo's.

She emerged once again in Jason Kayson's office. "Welcome back, Liz!" he said, looking up from paperwork on his desk. "I didn't expect you until Wednesday. I'm just trying to get paperwork caught up so that you can jump right into the action."

Liz tried to give him her best smile. It was slowly getting easier to smile again. "Thank you, Jason. I just came to see mum."

"Ah, hold on, then." Jason shuffled a stack of paper, opened a desk drawer, and retrieved a satchel. Handing it to Liz, he said, "These are the recordings you asked for. I'm glad the paperwork was relatively easy."

She opened the drawstring on the satchel and discovered a half-dozen items inside. They were made from dark wood, about 12 centimeters long, in the shape of a wide bookmark. Each was dated at one end, and the other had a series of tiny holes, much like a speaker, at the other. It was definitely a more space-saving design than her own music box, and the quality probably wasn't as good, but it would do.

"The consulting psychologist, Healer Jasmine Bradstreet, has seen your inventions as a great boon, and she hired two new staffers to review the 24-hour recordings, re-recording any portion without plain old silence. You'll hear them, too, identifying how long the silent portions would have gone on." Jason was beaming. "Healer Bradstreet has two other patients she's recording, and she has managed to find volunteers to work on theirs."

Liz tensed. She would have preferred unedited versions, and said so.

"But, how would you have time to review them?"

Liz relaxed, and winked. "I haven't released all of my inventions yet."

This got a conspiratorial grin from Jason, who reached into a pocket, pulled his key-ring, and handed one to Liz. "If I finish in here before you come back, then I will come to you."

She stowed the recordings in a pocket of her cloak and made her exit.

Sila was meditating in the lotus position on her bed. The wall she had been painting was stark white.

Liz chose the nearer of a pair of chairs, and she settled in, prepared to spend the whole morning waiting, if she must. It was just as well, since she had not found the time or energy for gaining Snape's help. Liz sighed, feeling helpless with how much she relied on Snape now. Maybe, after listening to the recordings, Liz would be able to form the questions herself.

Abandoning this difficult train of thought, Liz took a cue from mum, breathed deeply, closed her eyes, and attempted to clear her thoughts.

She did not know how much time had passed when she was roused by a hand on her shoulder. For a brief second, Liz thought she saw clarity in Sila's eyes, but in the time it took Liz to reach under her glasses and rub the sleep out of her own, it was gone.

Sila backed away, and said softly, "The sun has danced with the moon more than once."

"I'm so sorry," Liz whispered. "You were right about waiting a day. Everything has changed."

At this, Sila visibly shook. Liz was alarmed. It looked like Sila was having a seizure. But as quickly as it came it went, and Sila slumped down in the chair next to Liz.

"Mum? Talk to me."

With her eyes closed, Sila said, very slowly, "No, not Lizzy. Too old. Too breezy."

Liz fought to keep the tears back. "How old is Lizzy?"

It was like slow motion, the way Sila's face changed. A small smile graced Sila's face, but it did not reach her opening eyes. They were totally unfocused, staring at the wall across the room. "Four, four, one, one."

And that was the last she would say. Liz tried to form more questions, but Sila just stared at the wall. It was the one that she had painted. A quarter-hour passed before Liz gave up trying to get real answers. Finally, Liz asked one last question, "Should I ask them for your paint brush back?" It had been an impressive piece of magic, changing colors when touched to the color palette, but the brush itself was clean and left no mess, except of course on the wall. Liz thought it might be a nice gift for Julia, if the girl was inclined toward art.

Sila finally responded, turning to face Liz, but clearly not seeing her there. "The stage is already painted. It's time to play."

"Wait, what?" But Sila was already moving away, crawling under the covers of her bed. Liz was suddenly desperate. "What part do I play, mum? What part?"

But Sila was silent again.

Having just sang it so many times, Liz decided to go ahead and try the call-and-response song that had saved Julia. Sila was quiet, eyes closed, sitting with the sheet over her legs. Through a dozen repetitions of the song, she didn't move one bit.

Liz's voice cracked a lot sooner today, after just an hour. She shuddered and sobbed as she gave up.

\------------------------------

She nearly forgot her lunch date. When she finally pulled herself together, she had all of five minutes to ask Jason if there was a chance she could get her hands on the paintbrush from the other day (he said it belonged to Healer Bradstreet, so he didn't know) and then high-tail it over to Gringotts.

Apparently Tonks was running late, too, and they collided into each other, taking the marble steps two at a time.

Liz fell up, and she landed hard but without injury on the next step. Tonks fell down, and Liz threw out her hands to reach for her. It was a magical moment of panic, and it translated into Liz casting some sort of wandless charm, stopping Tonks' descent just in time to save her from a landing on her head.

And then Liz lost it, bawling. "I'm so -- so sorry. I can't -- can't believe I al -- almost killed you!"

Tonks recovered quickly and drew Liz into a hug. "It's a'right, mate. You must be Liz." They were both shaking. "Really, I'm dead clumsy; it was my own fault. Let's go grab a bite. There's a place nearby that tries out different menu items every day. Let's gamble!"

As Tonks spoke, Liz calmed herself down. She wasn't really sure what she was agreeing to, but she nodded and let the other woman lead the way.

Liz took great gulping breaths to calm herself, and then took a moment to assess her companion. She was even taller than Liz, with light brown hair and a harassed look about her. Liz did not have much time to ponder it, when Tonks said, "I'm glad I'm not the only one on the verge of tears these days."

It was a strange thing to say, but somehow it was the right thing. 

The restaurant was called Kakegurui, which made Liz chuckle when she found out there was no menu. "Wotcher, Dave," Tonks greeted the waiter. 

"Why Tonks, welcome back. I'll get you something good today," he said with a wink. "And who is this pretty lady?"

Liz tried to smile, but she wasn't sure it came out right. "I'm Liz. Pleasure to meet you."

And then he was off. Liz glanced around, trying to fill the silence by studying the establishment. It was clean and bright, but utterly boring with brown furniture and plain beige walls. On the other hand, the place was now full, so Liz figured she was in for a treat. Every table seemed to have a different entrée: pizza, tacos, steak, and even sushi. Liz eyed the sushi suspiciously, wondering if it was any good. A summer in Japan with a pocket full of gold could spoil a girl's appreciation for anything less than the best.

"Earth to Liz!" 

Liz whipped her head around and took another look at Tonks. Something was different. "Erm, wasn't your nose, er, larger, a moment ago..?"

"Yeah, kind of nice. I haven't been able to change on purpose for a couple of days now. Too upset."

"You're a metamorphmagus? Merlin and Circe among us, that's awe --" Liz's mind suddenly went very dirty, considering Tonks and Lupin in the sack, taking advantage of that particular skill. "-- some. Awesome. Although healing you lot is a pain in the arse. But, hold on, did you say upset?"

Tonks looked a little nervous. "Well, I don't want to blame you Liz, but ever since Remus went to Hogwarts to see you, he's been, erm, distant."

Liz frowned. "But he seemed so relieved. I rather thought you two would get closer, not farther apart."

Tonks shook her head. "When I finally got him to talk to me instead of just dump me, he said something about being too old and too dangerous for me."

At first, Liz thought she might agree about the danger bit; after all, the man was a werewolf. But she shook herself -- Tonks was an auror, and aurors seemed like just the sort to be able to assess a dangerous situation for themselves. Certainly Tonks was more qualified to decide whether Lupin was dangerous to her than, say, Liz was to decide if Snape was dangerous to her. Finally, Liz rolled her eyes. "I guess it's sweet to think of your safety, but, seriously, you are an auror, right?"

This got an enthusiastic grin from Tonks. "That's exactly what I said. But then I said something stupid, like I always do."

They were interrupted by the arrival of their meal. Liz was pleasantly surprised at the cheeseburger and chocolate malt that was set before her. Then she leaned forward to smell it. "Oh. My. Gods! It's a butter burger!"

Tonks looked up from hers with a question on her face.

Liz didn't hesitate. She picked up the burger and took a huge bite. She did not care that Tonks was watching her chew the giant mouthful, probably with a look of utter bliss on her face. It was forever and it was only a few seconds, but it was glorious. 

Liz sighed, holding back a moan of pure pleasure, setting down the rest of the sandwich, and looked Tonks in the eye.

Tonks laughed. "I think I'm afraid to try it. Will it ruin burgers for me forever?"

Pointing an accusing finger at the back room door, Liz said, "I'm willing to bet that the kitchen is really some kind of transport hub. Floo, maybe. Because this --" she switched to pointing at her plate "-- is a Culver's butter burger. Last I knew you could only get this in Wisconsin."

Tonks' eyebrows grew bushier as she waggled them, which delighted Liz. "Nice."

They tucked in.

"So," Liz began, around a mouthful of gluttonous delight, "You were going to say something." She washed the bit down with a sip of her malt. "Something stupid that you said to Remus."

"Oh right. So he was going on about how dangerous he is. I said, well, honestly, I'm an auror.  _ I've handled way more dangerous men than you _ ."

Liz bit her lip. Uh oh.

"See? It was stupid. Dealing with criminals for my job is totally different than  _ handling _ my lover."

"Did you follow up by saying that?"

Tonks glared at Liz. "Of course not. I had to think about it, agonize over it, and now he won't talk to me."

"Ugh."

They finished their meal in silence, each considering the problem.

Liz paid the bill. "No, I insist," she had to say. "I nearly killed you today, and apparently something I said triggered your lover's guilt. It's the least I can do." And as they walked out of the restaurant, generally back in the direction of Gringotts, Liz added, "You know, maybe you should knock his socks off with some grand gesture. Normally I strive for Slytherin subtlety, but I've got both of you pegged for Gryffindor."

Tonks blushed, tingeing the roots of her brown hairs with pink. "Hufflepuff for me, actually."

Liz smiled. "But he's Gryffindor, right? They don't understand subtlety like the rest of us. Some are capable, of course, but mostly, they need to be hit over the head with an idea, especially one that they seem opposed to."

"But that's the thing isn't it? If he really doesn't want... well, if he really doesn't want to be with me, then won't pushing the matter make it worse?"

The honest answer to that, of course, was if he didn't want to be with her, then it is better to end it cleanly. Liz didn't want to suggest such a thing quite yet, and they parted with a brief hug.

Then, Liz found herself alone in Diagon Alley, in the middle of the afternoon. She suspected she was safe enough on the street in broad daylight, so she very quickly popped in and out of the shops. She hunted high and low for the magical paintbrush toy, scurrying from shop to shop in the chill. She even ducked over to Artistic Alley, resisting the urge to browse at the music shops, but the paint store's clerk was hardly a cashier, let alone an expert who could help Liz as a layman to the world of painting. Finally, she was traipsing back the Leaky Cauldron to drown out another failure, when she decided it couldn't hurt to try the joke shop. This was, after all, more like a toy than a fine art tool.

She managed to get quick attention from George Weasley, who was a fun flirt, and he listened carefully while she explained what she was after.

"Sounds like something we could make. It'll cost you, though."

Liz smiled a small little smile. "Just the other day I was telling Bardolf Sayer that I expect to pay a premium for premium crafts. And, really, we are both inventors here. I understand and respect the rights of the creative process."

"Mister Sayer, huh? He makes the safety glass and enchanted beads for our kaleidoscopes."

Liz's small smile got bigger. A magical kaleidoscope was a thing of beauty, but she had never seen one in Sayer's shop. 

Before she could say as much, George asked, "Hey, Liz, do you... do you party?"

The grin was threatening to overtake Liz's face. "Are you asking if I know what Mister Sayer keeps in the back room?"

He nodded.

"Yes." She wiped the grin off her face and glanced around the store. A handful of customers were browsing on this slow weekday, but they all seemed engrossed by the merchandise, or by Fred Weasley's sly salesmanship. "I don't have anywhere to be for a while," she ventured.

George gave a quick whistle to catch his brother's attention. Through a nonverbal exchange of head movements and rude hand gestures, they apparently understood one another, and George turned back to Liz, offering his hand.

Feeling adventurous and bold, Liz took it.

They ducked briefly into a window display, where George plucked a kaleidoscope from a basket, and then he led her upstairs. Apparently the boys were living above the shop. The rooms were large, with minimal furniture, mostly boxes stacked high against the walls.

The common area was an open floor plan, just a small living room area and kitchen with a peninsula. A low, long coffee table of pale, worn wood dominated the floor space, with cushions and blankets surrounding it. Liz smirked, selecting a bright red cushion to sit upon and a velvety pink throw blanket to cover her legs. And fondle. It was so soft.

George sat on the opposite side of the table, extracting a padded bag from below it. While he cleaned the weed and loaded a bowl, Liz said, "Thank you for your hospitality."

He waved away the comment. "When Molly Weasley is your mum, hospitality is second nature."

"My mum hates strangers. I'm not sure I could name a friend of hers, except those abroad. We were always guests, never the hosts."

He gave her an odd look and handed her the green hit. Liz took a moment to admire the glasswork she held. A basic spoon shape, with the stem angled just enough so that you would never eat the bowl. It was colored with swirls of green, darkened with a great deal of resin. "Another beautiful Sayer original?"

When George nodded, Liz sparked the bowl.

They smoked in silence, passing three rounds before George set it down. Liz felt very chill. "Good stuff. Thank you again." She looked down at the pink blanket, stroking it gently with her right hand. "I've had a rough week or so. I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"You'll have to come by again in another week or so, once Fred and I figure out a plan for this paintbrush toy. In the meantime..." He offered the kaleidoscope.

With a smirk, Liz accepted and brought up the eyepiece. She was mildly wary of the prankster potential -- this was a Weasley Wizard Wheezes product, after all -- but that mistrust was forgotten immediately in the riot of swirling colors. As a magical device, she did not have to turn it, just point it toward the light coming in from the kitchen window. "Lovely," she whispered, as tiny blue and white beads poured over the larger tan ones, like an ocean wave crashing in all directions.

George was smiling a little too softly when she looked at him again. "It's yours, then," he said.

Liz shook her head, eyes wide. "I couldn't possibly...” But there was something a bit deceptive about such a silly boy giving her such a serious look. A look she had seen before, among musicians who wished to license her instrumental inventions. “Ah. Is this a business schmoozing? What is it that you want, Young Master Weasley?"

His leering smile took on a hard edge. "Mister would do fine, or better yet call me George. My great-grandfather was the last Master Weasley. Our family gave up the pureblood titles long ago. And," he finished with a cheeky grin, "I think young is a bit rich, considering we were in the same class at Hogwarts."

She hoped her expression was sufficiently sheepish. "Of course, George, I'm sorry. I'm used to doing business in a formal setting with Herr Schwarz." Liz paused a moment to sigh, hoping she wouldn't bungle things badly with the next bit. "I don't party for trade. I party to have a good time. If you want to do business, I could have my people contact your people. Just tell me your idea."

"It's Fred's idea, actually. He's the idea man, and I hammer out the details. But anyway, he watches the public records coming from the Ministry, and your patents caught his attention. Officially, we want to sell your music boxes in our store. We have some ideas for recording funny soundboards, comedy shows, and parody music. Though, to be fair, Celestina Warbeck is practically self-parody."

Liz smirked. So far the idea seemed reasonable enough. "And unofficially?"

"We want to tinker with them and create portable surveillance devices. We have an open contract with the M.L.E. and the Aurory to create new tools for defense and espionage."

Liz's smile failed. Surveillance seemed sketchy. And she would have to grant a license to create derivative works from her patent. She was far too fuzzy and chill to make this decision now. "I'm going to have to think about it. Have you already been in contact with Herr Schwarz?"

"Yes. When he was unsure about your approval, we asked him to let us approach you, and he was the one who warned us to be sincere with you. It's very lucky you stopped in today. Don't think on it too long, Liz. There's a war brewing, and our goal here is to save lives."

She nodded. "I can understand that. But just think about a device like this falling into the wrong hands. The very idea is harshing my mellow." She stood. "I need to go."

He stood as well, and he rounded the table to stand in front of her. He was quite a bit taller than her, making her tilt her chin to look up. "One more thing, Liz. I know that we didn't spend much time together at school, but I did notice you. I noticed that you always had your nose in a book, or in a Rolling Stone magazine, when it was too cold to go running around the lake. You always kept your head down, and weren't as vicious as the other Slytherins. I know the timing is bad, but I won't be at school in September to ask you out."

He might have gone on, but Liz decided to take pity. "All right, George, you're right again. The timing is bad. I think it's kind of weird to be dating while we work out the business details." Liz took a step back, and then one wide step around George toward the door. "Whatever I decide, I'll let you know, and maybe you'll see me around Diagon Alley a few more times yet this summer." As she slipped out the door, she gave him a flashy grin. "And I'll surely be back in a week, to ask again about the paintbrush."


	8. A Light Hits the Gloom on the Grey

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Are y'all finally ready for a nice *tasty* little lemon? Just a teeny sip of fresh-squeezed lemon juice ;)

#  P1Ch8 Playlist

  * Title track: "Kiss From a Rose" by Seal 1994
  * "Bennie and the Jets" by Elton John 1973



Chapter 8 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5KCq5H717XU9jwUQUVjaXI>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 8: A Light Hits the Gloom on the Grey

Liz decided she was too baked for Diagon Alley. She apparated away to a little spot in the countryside where she liked to go running. It was more secluded, which could be more dangerous, but she had never seen anyone there before. Liz figured some exercise would make her feel better, and she couldn’t get it out of her head that maybe the boys at Hogwarts really had paid attention to her solitary athletic pursuits. She liked flying, but didn’t much care for quidditch; it was much too violent. She rather thought she had half a memory of George Weasley being unnecessarily aggressive on the pitch when playing against the Slytherin team. But then she wondered who else might have been watching her at the lake, running and swimming and dancing all these six years...

She breathed in the fresh air of the open meadow and transfigured her robes and shoes for sportswear. 

And then she ran.

There was a gravel path on the side of the meadow, and she followed it for a while. When a small creek met up and followed along the path, Liz jumped down the shallow bluff and ran along the water’s edge. It was a fast-moving, very narrow stream, crashing over rocks on its downhill route. The terrain was rough, and Liz had to concentrate all her focus on precision footfalls until the creek widened, slowed, and the edge became sandy smooth.

Along the way, the meadow path turned and disappeared from view. Then the little bluff became a big bluff, taller than Liz’s head. She was close now, to her favorite spot. Around the next bend of the creek, there it was, the sturdy old oak tree, holding back the ground against erosion. The tree had grown from the top of the bluff, and its gnarled old roots were exposed below. Liz smirked to herself and extracted her wand, nudging the roots magically into less of a tangle, and then finally into straight bars, making something of a tree fort.

She considered her work and decided it wasn’t quite private enough. Though she had never seen anyone down here before, she once came upon a spent fire, and she knew a little town of muggles lived within a few miles. She climbed the rocky bluff, and then the tree itself, shimmying out over the land-side of the tree to the new growth. She put her healing hands on the limb that supported her weight, and then she used her wand to fell the neighboring bough. She hugged the tree in thanks and then swung down.

Liz made quick work of dragging the large branch back below and breaking it down. The leafy branches and twigs became a covering for her root-fort, and the stripped core of the branch was chopped and dried for firewood. 

She set privacy wards designed for open spaces, sparked the fire just outside the entrance to her fort, and conjured a pink, fluffy blanket to lie down.

Liz was exhausted, but happy. The run had done her worlds of good. She was ready for one more release, something she thought she might need, lest she do something very stupid with Severus Snape or George Weasley. Thinking of them both, the way they looked at her, always sizing her up, Liz started to touch herself.

First, it was just her face. Closing her eyes, she ran fingertips along her own jawline, a thumb across her lower lip, and then a small massage at her temples.

One warm hand moved to lie gently at her throat, the pads of her fingers teasing the sensitive places where she could feel her own pulse. The other hand moved lower, to cup a breast. Her tight-fitting running clothes were hugging her, making her feel sexy, and the cooling sheen of sweat was in glorious contrast to the warmth of the fire and the inner burn from her run.

The fluffy pink blanket was another sensual delight, another contrasting sensation, teasing her skin wherever it was not covered by her transfigured sportswear. She kicked off her shoes and dug her toes into the fluff, knees bent and parted, a welcoming cradle for whomever might appear in this fantasy.

She had missed this. During the school year she could get off nearly every day, either with that now-ex-boyfriend of hers, or by her own practiced hand. She had some nice toys and a wild imagination. The post-orgasmic clarity was real and essential to her intellectual pursuits. With all the insanity since, she hadn't had a euphorically joyous feeling since her stage show, and she needed this imminent release in her soul as well as her body.

Keeping one hand at her breast, tweaking her nipples through the tight, stretchy fabric, the other hand moved lower still. She rubbed gently at her crotch, through her clothes, and she felt a shiver of anticipation. Not bothering to undress, she slipped her hand under the waistband and fingered herself gently. 

Behind her eyelids, she imagined the moment, back at Hogwarts, when Snape lifted her in the air and kissed her neck. It had been so effortless, and he had been as happy as Liz had ever seen him. She imagined, also, the moment at the Blumwands’ home, when she worked up the nerve to kiss him properly, but did not dare deepen the passion. 

She wondered if Snape had ever bedded a student before. It didn’t really seem like him. And the thought was a turn-off. She wanted to be the one that made him lose control.

And then Liz herself lost control in the moment, fingers pumping just the right rhythm against her g-spot, and she came, moaning a quiet little, "Ooooh, Severus," as her legs shook and her back arched.

\------------------------------

Liz took special care cleaning up her fire, but she left the tree fort and the blanket, hoping that another person might find some much-needed privacy.

The sun was lowering, and her tummy rumbled. She apparated back to St. Mungo’s and flooed back to the Blumwands’ house.

She was just in time to catch the end of dinner. Eating heartily, Liz listened to Marlena chatter about the work she was doing for Fatin’s Looks. It seemed that Snape had asked her to fill in for Sila on some crucial marketing tasks, and Marlena was glowing with pride at her new responsibilities. 

Thomas and Julia had spent their afternoon playing outside in the garden, and Julia beamed while telling her stories of throwing out gnomes and chasing bunnies away from the vegetables. Having recently finished his latest translation project, Thomas had taken a notebook outside, and apparently inspiration had hit. He had many notes to work from during tomorrow’s writing session on his own novel. The satisfied smile on his face made her heart ache, and she wished, not for the first time, that her work as a healer wasn't so full of suffering people. Writing, music, any of the fine arts, really, were the only satisfying expression of the complex emotions which Liz always felt were heaped upon her.

Liz did not want to talk about her day. She listened very carefully and shoveled down her pasta dinner. And when she was finished, she asked if they'd mind her playing at the piano.

"Not at all!" Thomas said. "In fact, it would be quite nice. Sanja plays, but Julia does not seem interested. We'd love to have a songbird in the house again."

"Not interested?" Liz turned to Julia. "Is it the music itself or the difficulty of playing this instrument with small hands?"

Julia opened her mouth, shut it again, thought for a moment, and then said, "I don't know."

Liz smiled. Good girl. "Let's try music again, then. Maybe you'll like percussion better. If you can learn to keep time, then we can play together! All right, for this first song, just clap. Here, like this." She demonstrated the single clap repeated in the proper time. Julia stood by Liz at the piano bench and joined in, and then so did Thomas and Marlena, getting comfortable on the nearby sofa.

Liz tried the keys, preparing to play and listening for the timing of the family clapping. Finding several of the strings out of tune, Liz waved her wand to fix them. Then she began to play in earnest.

_ From "Bennie and the Jets" by Elton John _

_ Hey kids, shake it loose together  
_ _ The spotlight's hitting something  
_ _ That's been known to change the weather  
_ _ We'll kill the fatted calf tonight  
_ _ So stick around  
_ _ You're gonna hear electric music  
_ _ Solid walls of sound _

_ Say, Candy and Ronnie, have you seen them yet  
_ _ Ooo, but they're so spaced out, B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets  
_ _ Oh, but they're weird and they're wonderful  
_ _ Oh, Bennie she's really keen  
_ _ She's got electric boots, a mohair suit  
_ _ You know I read it in a magazine, oh  
_ _ B-B-B-Bennie and the Jets _

_ Bennie, Bennie and the Jets  
_ _ Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets  
_ _ Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie, Bennie and the Jets _

__ Bennie Bennie Bennie Bennie and the Jets  
_ Bennie Bennie Bennie Bennie Bennie  
_ __ Bennie Bennie Bennie and the Jets, Jets, Jets...

It went well. Julia was able to keep the time on that simple beat. After that song, Liz went up to her room to fetch some pieces from her drum kit, just a bass, snare and high-hat. She hesitated at the sticks, selecting an un-enchanted pair. If Julia showed dedication, she would show the girl how magic could improve her skill.

She also picked up her acoustic guitar.

The rest of the night, Liz taught Julia some basic beats, and she herself played either piano or guitar and sang.

It was really quite fun.

The next day, Liz slept late. It was Tuesday, and she had the entire day off to tie up any loose ends before she started at St. Mungo’s. So much had happened. She needed a to-do list.

  1. Review the recordings from St. Mungo’s and prepare questions for next visit with mum.
  2. Visit Herr Schwarz to discuss licensing IP with Weasleys.
  3. Sleep. For Circe's sake, catch up on sleep.
  4. Cultivate relationships with possible allies: Snape, Thomas, Marlena, Lippy, Riley, Tonks, Longbottom



There. Four was plenty of tasks to think about for one day. However, maybe that first one could be combined with some exercise while she listened. The running, climbing, building, and getting off the previous day had felt great, so maybe she could do a little yoga or dancing while determining if there was anything useful in the St. Mungo’s recordings.

That tedious task took her through lunch (a quick sandwich in the kitchen with Julia, who announced that her daddy was sending her for daily music lessons with a witch who lived down the street) and beyond. The more Liz listened, the more frustrated she became. Yoga meditation didn’t help. Sila had daily talks with Healer Bradstreet, but they were short and apparently pointless. With no one around, Sila did not talk to herself, but she hummed happy little tunes. And there were many hours of silence cut out. Among the six days of recordings, Liz only received 10 hours of playback. Using an experimental Fast Forwarding spell ( _ celercanetis _ , modified from the repeating pulse device she had made with Snape's help) to speed up the playback during the humming sessions, Liz cut her listening time to six hours.

She was distracted during dinner with the Blumwands. She had barely one vague clue from the recordings, and she wanted more time alone to think it through.

"Lizzy, did you hear us, sweetheart?" That was Thomas.

She shook herself and focused her attention on him. "I’m sorry. I’m working through a tough problem right now and don’t want to lose my train of thought. Please pardon me; I should go."

"But your supper!" That was Julia. "You’ve hardly eaten anything." Liz felt a small stab of regret at the look on Julia’s face. Liz had made herself quite scarce today, so maybe Julia needed some attention.

"It’s all right," said Thomas. "Go ahead and take your plate to your room. But first, Marlena was just trying to tell you one thing."

Liz could only offer a pinched little smile to Marlena, who took it in stride and said, "Severus was in the lab today at Fatin’s Looks. When I left he said he was nearly finished with something for you. He will be here tonight if it goes well."

She relaxed. "Thank you. This is good news indeed. I better go finish my thoughts about this project before he gets here." Scooping up her plate and fork, Liz bounded back up to her room and warded the door. 

Nibbling gently on steamed vegetables, Liz allowed herself a moment to calm down from the tense feeling of having wasted so much time with the recordings. Snape was coming, and she was relying on him in more ways than one to help with mum.

She slowly but methodically sorted the recording sticks, selected the most recent, and used her Fast Forwarding spell to catch up to the one relevant bit that stood a chance of meaning something.

_ "Well, Sila," _ said the voice that Liz now recognized as Healer Jillian Bradstreet.  _ "When did your daughter promise to visit again?" _

Sila’s voice was deadpan in response. Liz could just imagine Sila staring without seeing, while speaking in a low, even tone:  _ "My visitor is late." _

_ "Is this tardiness normal for Liz?" _

There was a pause, not quite long enough to have been cut, but long enough that she heard one of the women shuffle in her seat.

_ "No. My Lizzy is never late." _

_ "Tell me more about your daughter. You already mentioned she wants to be a rock star. How old is she now?" _

During another pause, Liz held her breath. It was a question that Liz herself had asked, and received a cryptic answer. If Healer Bradstreet thought it was important, that was a validation of Liz’s need to ask it, and maybe Liz should get back to deciphering it.

_ "Four, four, one, zero." _

Then, just like Liz, Healer Bradstreet could not get Sila to say any more after that.

Finishing her plate, Liz considered those digits. Her arithmetic skills were very good as a child, but Professor Vector had used the phrase "number sense" to describe why she thought Liz might have a hard time with arithmancy. She wondered if that "number sense" was exactly what she needed to figure out what the hell Sila meant.

So, let’s start with something easy, she thought to herself. Normally, when asked for an age, the answer is expected in years. Obviously Liz was never 4,410 or 4,411 years old, but those answers were only given one day apart. Could it be as easy as days? A little rounding to determine if it’s worth the arithmetic: 400 goes into 4400 eleven times. Hmm.

So Liz conjured herself a scrap of parchment and a quill, and soon she discovered that 4,410 days were approximately 12.08 years. Hmm again.

That would come awfully close to the day that Sila took Liz to Cameroon. Time for some more calendar math: With a birth date of November 6, 1978, Liz would have been 4,412 days old (a projection to today based on the two different numbers from Sila) on the date of December 5, 1990. The date of December 20 was burned into Liz’s mind. It was the day she learned she was a Hand Healer. If her intuition about this was right, she had 15 days.

For what, she did not know. Liz conjured more parchment, thicker and stronger this time, and started drawing up a calendar for the current month. She wrote "4411" on yesterday’s date, and also "4410" on the day prior. She circled and starred the date of July 31. A nagging suspicion came to Liz, about that date being important, too, but she was drawing a blank.

And she was still pondering it when Snape arrived. She heard the family greet him down the stairs, but she did not get up. She called for Lippy to take her dirty dishes (they disappeared instantly) and pointed her wand at the door to lift the wards.

She was finishing re-writing her to-do list on the back of her calendar when the doorknob turned. Quickly flipping the calendar side of the parchment up, she lifted her head and shot a grin Snape’s direction as he came in. "Hello. I heard we’ve both been working on my mother’s mysteries today."

He came over to where Liz sat at her vanity and glanced over the parchments. 

She waited patiently. He was close, and she could catch a tantalizing whiff of clove and pepper.

He asked, "What happens July thirty-first?"

"I don’t know." Liz was rather put out that he did not even say hello, or acknowledge that he came here for a purpose. "I am expecting some key information from mum’s diary."

He stepped back and gave her only a raised eyebrow.

"And, if that turns out to be as vague and useless as the audio recordings of her suite at St. Mungo’s, then I might need help crafting careful questions for her. I’m not sure what would be safe to put on record at the hospital."

The silence that followed stretched on long enough that Liz, herself, decided to stretch, lifting her arms above her head and then shaking them out. Then she stood, flicked her wand to reset her wards, and swiftly approach Snape.

Not giving him a chance to protest, she put her arms around his middle and pressed herself against him, laying her head on his shoulder. "I’m glad you’re here," she murmured in his ear.

His arms came up, and he rested his hands gently just under her shoulder blades. She was wearing a thin dressing gown of black silk, tied over black leggings and a dark gray spaghetti strap top. Essentially, she spent all day in the pyjamas she had slept in the night before.

His hands began to move, and he felt heavenly, stroking her softly down her back.

She gave him a quick squeeze before pulling back to look at him properly.

The lines in Snape’s face softened just a bit, and he looked at her with an expression she might have described as  _ sweet _ . Well, at least, not scowling or sneering, but soft eyes and lines as his gaze raked over her form. Finally, he said, "We have much to discuss and not much time."

Liz nodded and released him. As she turned the vanity stool outward, she asked, "Would you rather sit here or on the bed?"

He glared at the stool and sat down swiftly on the edge of the bed.

So Liz sat back down in her seat at the vanity. "What first?"

“If you think it would help, I could speak to Sila. Those listening would hear me talk business, but I could also attempt legilimency.”

Frowning, she said, “I don’t know. There’s a sporting chance that she has her own mind traps, and her flavor of madness might be particularly dangerous.”

He didn’t deny it.

“Don’t do anything that will pitch you to madness, too. Simply talking to her might be helpful enough... if not directly helpful to us, then at least to confirm that the recordings are not being altered or censored.”

“Then it should not be so obvious that we are allied on matters of your mother. I will see about getting access to her without your official approval.”

Liz’s frown deepened. She could see the sense of the strategy, but it was a bit unsettling that he seemed so confident about getting insiders to break protocol at a hospital. 

“The headmaster has a lot of influence at St. Mungo’s. In fact, I believe he finally stopped whinging that you chose it over Hogwarts because your presence takes some attention and pressure off his agents.”

Somehow that was even worse than thinking the Dark Lord was the one with spies who could put patients at such risk.

"You just keep doing your job. Next I want to hear about Julia’s progress."

Liz smiled and was happy to report, "She is socializing with me and spending time with her family every day. I've encouraged an interest in music, and Thomas has followed up with arranging music lessons. I suppose I was a little distant today. Tomorrow I will ask if she has written to any of her friends."

"I have already done so. In fact, I need to ask you the same."

Well that was odd. May as well be honest. "Since I’ve been here I only sent out one bit of post. On Sunday night I sent a music box to Kellan."

Snape’s lips quirked, and Liz was quite sure he was squashing a smirk of some kind. "Your post is most likely being watched, or worse. Do take care with what you write down."

Liz glared at him. Of course she would take care.

"We know this because Werner Schwarz has been trying to owl you regarding your former residence. It seems that your Grandmother Althea has asserted a claim to her dead son’s remains and possessions. She does not have a legal leg to stand on, but Herr Schwarz is asking that you talk to her, to see if she will leave peacefully, or if he will have to call upon M.L.E. to forcibly remove her."

Halfway through this, Liz had closed her eyes. Her grandmother was a loose end that should have made her to-do list. She briefly wondered what else she was forgetting, but pushed the thought aside to focus. "Fine," she said, opening them again. "I will see her tomorrow when I am finished with my shift at St. Mungo’s. Then I will report to Werner Schwarz in Diagon Alley. Next item of business?"

"Another idea for Sila. Is she well enough to get a day release pass?"

Oh, that was smart. Liz felt a hopeful twinge of admiration for his cleverness. "Probably, yes. But, I would expect them to assign some kind of chaperone."

"Or they will simply plant a surveillance device on her."

Liz’s eyes went wide. "Are you saying, like a trace?" Then she schooled her face, hopefully looking as thoughtful as she felt. "Easily overcome."

"No, Persephone, not a trace. A portable audio recording solution."

"Still easy enough to find and remove, I would think." But that also answered another question from her to-do list. "Damn. If there are already unauthorized derivative works, maybe I should go ahead and license it out in the name of defense."

"Did someone approach you about licensing for your intellectual property?"

She purposefully dodged the question, since he obviously knew something she didn't. Again. "I have issued many licenses, and Herr Schwarz usually fields the requests and makes good choices for me. He was the one who set up the St. Mungo’s contract. Oh. Spies and leaks at St. Mungo’s. I suppose I should not be surprised."

Snape nodded. "Headmaster Dumbledore wants you to visit him approximately two weeks after you begin work, to see if your stories will corroborate those coming from another source. The Dark Lord may want the same thing, but that is speculation on my part."

"Sure," she said. "Whatever I witness at the hospital is theirs to examine. I’ll just do my job and be honest. I think it's easier and less dangerous for everyone that way."

"Very likely," he agreed. "Now, who approached you?"

Liz narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Wasn’t he just saying that both of his masters wanted information from her? And wasn’t she just thinking that honesty was the best policy? She tried to replace her glare with a poker face, and she said simply, "The Weasleys."

"Good. Grant their request. But do it discreetly -- does anyone else know that you had direct contact with the Weasleys?"

The glare returned. "Now, I’m not totally convinced, but supposing I am, then, yes, there were a handful of customers who might be able to identify me at their shop yesterday. I had gone looking for a particular gift to purchase and they may have a solution for me." Liz turned her frown upside down. "Actually I am supposed to stop by again next week to pick it up."

An odd look crossed Snape’s face, and Liz had the distinct impression that he was going to laugh at her. But, instead, he said, "Good. Grant their request. Take care of it tomorrow when you report to Werner Schwarz. Be thorough with your documentation, and send two actual music boxes along. The Weasley twins will be working from the moment they get the package until the moment you arrive next week. Be prepared to answer any questions they might have about the boxes."

Liz opened her mouth to argue, but she shut it before any words came out. Instead, she realized that people beyond the MLE and Aurory were going to benefit from this. Dark wizards would not care, and they in fact might already have this fantastic tool for espionage. Nope, somehow, Fred and George Weasley were also working for Dumbledore. Had to be. But it was probably better not to say it out loud.

And so Liz sighed, resigned. "All right, I’ll grant their request. And I will send them two new music boxes. But I will have to make them tonight. Or do you think they will benefit more from seeing one of my early prototypes alongside the current model?"

He didn’t miss a beat. "Yes. Send the prototype and just make one new box. If possible in one night, the best music box you have ever made."

Oooh, and ambitious challenge. Liz felt a tingle of excitement, even as she felt a pang for the all-nighter she was about to pull before her first day at work. She'd have to cross off the sleep item from her to-do list, or maybe even scrap the whole thing and start over. "I will need to get to Gringotts. Do you know if they close access to the vaults at night?"

"No, not for accounts that have accumulated your level of wealth. And if you leave now, it won’t be so late as to raise suspicion."

"Fine. Anything else before I go?"

Snape rose from his position and extracted a small package from inside his cloak. As he set it down next to her on the vanity, he said, "When you return here after work and errands tomorrow, see if you can figure out what the hell your mother was grooming you for. Your calendar here indicates that you have fifteen days to figure it out, but the sooner the better. Try four, if you can. I’ll be back Sunday night to collect you for a mission."

She didn’t ask what the mission was or for whom the mission would be completed. She shot a grateful look at the parcel, stood up, put her arms back around him, and kissed him. It was brief, but it was full of need. She managed to coax his lips apart for a quick dip between them, and he tasted like spiced chocolate and coffee. Divine. 

He pulled back first, but gazed at her with heavy-lidded eyes. "Persephone..." he said slowly, "How did you learn to kiss like that?"

"I don't think you want to know," she said evenly, before breaking into a grin. "But I guarantee you've never been with as good a kisser as me, and I look forward to endless snogging with you."

"Perhaps I could find a way to arrive early on Sunday."

She smiled warmly. "Til then."

And then he was gone.

Liz did not waste any time. Gringotts was mostly empty, but open for business, when she arrived, and the Goblins did not give her any suspicious looks. Well, not any more than usual, anyway.

From her personal vault she collected a fresh allowance of coins, as well as a copy of her notes and the raw materials for her music box. 

Two strips of Japanese White Oak, a single scrap of beautiful hand-made silk, and a heavy tote of iron filings: Three simple ingredients for the physical manifestation of her most impressive magic. At the last moment, Liz decided to collect enough to make two boxes, after all.

Out in the garden at the Blumwands’ home, Liz spent only two hours constructing the actual boxes, and then all night chanting and singing, binding the incantations that would trigger events on the music box.

At midnight Julia had come out to watch. She kept a very respectful distance, as well as silence, before Thomas came out to put her to bed.

The finished boxes were about 20 centimeters long, 12 wide, and just 5 tall, and each could hold hundreds of hours of recordings. The spells would break down if the boxes were shrunk, but she supposed they could start smaller and hold significantly less audio, much like the single slats of English Oak she got from St. Mungo’s. Much like her earlier boxes. Much like the single-track boxes, which fit in her palm, which she carried with her in her hemp-rope handbag.

As dawn’s first rays crept into the garden, Liz applied a quick spell to one of the new boxes, and then she said, "Gentlemen, I am pleased that you have taken an interest in my work. My notes may be a touch messy, so, to get started, here are a number of spells that can be applied to this box for its basic functions..."

Liz took a quick nap before preparing to leave for work. Healer Jason Kayson met with her at 9am sharp.

As they toured the facility, he explained a lot about his own position at St. Mungo's. He was on call at all times, and he had a little device the size of a matchbox that would buzz in his pocket when the hospital needed him. He managed to get one issued to Liz as well, and he said to be prepared to observe him on the first several calls.

But he was not called upon often enough to fill a work week, so he had 2 sets of rounds to complete each week. The first round would be the long-term patients. The fourth floor sign might say "Spell Damage" but it was a little misleading -- all long-term cases, whether caused by a spell or anything else, took up residence on the fourth floor. The second round would be in the free walk-in clinic the next day. Normally Jason would take the rest of the week off, barring emergencies, but with an intern, they would both spend two more days on-site, learning about the overall facility and duties of other staff. Liz understood this to mean that she'd be doing tedious paperwork and other grunt jobs that others wanted to pass off to the intern. That was fine, she supposed, like any other internship or apprenticeship. There was nothing quite like some tedious, difficult work to ground a good healer, even (especially?) one as accomplished as Liz.

So, today, they visited the fourth floor. Liz was startled by some of the names she recognized, including Lockhart and Longbottom, but she scolded herself. Of course Neville's parents were here -- why else would he have been here the other day? No one's condition had changed since the previous week. In fact, most people on the fourth floor became permanent residents, according to Jason.

And Jason saved Sila for last. "As she is in fact my patient, I would be fine with taking responsibility for her, but as you are my intern, technically you should review her chart every week. If that's no good, I'd totally understand. It's not really typical for an intern to have to regularly work with her own mother..."

Liz nodded stiffly as he said this. "Thank you, Jason. I am not sure I can deal with the clinical side every week. Other than some errands I need to run today, I would most like to simply visit with her after my duties are finished each day."

"Yes, of course. I'll just pop in now to review her chart and then we will be finished for today, so we can talk healer-to-visitor."

Liz found herself shuffling her feet outside of her mother's room, fighting an urge to be sick. What was she going to tell Jason? She had a potion-key for mum’s diary waiting for her back at the Blumwands’ home, but otherwise no real answers.

When Jason came back, he offered his arm to Liz, and she took it gratefully, allowing him to lead her back to his office. It was a short walk, and once she was settled across Jason’s desk with a cup of tea, he finally spoke. "As we discussed before, Sila is in great health, physically. But she has been very quiet, and holds herself in a defensive way that suggests expectation of an attack. Yesterday we took her to a common room, and she just sat there, eyeing everyone suspiciously or staring out the windows. Didn’t say a word. Did you get any clues from the recordings?"

Liz drained her tea. "Not really. I’d like to continue receiving them daily. Do you know anything important about the date of July thirty-first?"

"Not specifically." He gestured in a way that suggested they pause their conversation, and he popped out of the office to order up lunch from the cafeteria. When he stepped back in a moment later, he said, "I guess, for trivia’s sake, July thirty-first is Harry Potter’s birthday."

She rolled her eyes before she could stop herself.

Jason laughed. "Not a Potter fan?"

Liz sized him up, trying to decide what to say. A lunch tray appeared on Jason’s desk, and they helped themselves to little sandwiches. It was already well past her usual lunch hour so Liz was ravenous. After several bites she was finally ready to continue the conversation. "Well, if you must know, I think he’s rather like me. Things have happened in our lives, completely outside our own control, that have more or less defined who we are. I did not choose Hand Healing any more than Potter chose to be orphaned by the Dark Lord. I’m not exactly impressed by either of us."

"I see." And, indeed, Jason looked thoughtful. "Anyway, how did you come up with July 31 as a significant date?"

"Well, I’m not totally sure -- I tried so many ways to interpret the numbers that mum gives when she’s asked about me. Let’s call it, magical inspiration. It wouldn’t be the first time that magic beyond our knowledge influenced someone’s reasoning."

"Do you think we should be prepared for Sila to do something on that date?"

An interesting thought. She replied honestly, "I don’t know. I'll make sure I can be here on that day."

\------------------------------

After finishing their sandwiches, and a friendly dismissal from Jason, Liz headed back to her parents’ house, expecting a confrontation with Grandmother Althea. She knew something was wrong as soon as she apparated to the doorstep. None of the wards were up. None. 

Uh oh.

The sitting room was a mess of broken furniture. Anything not nailed was overturned. Any nick-knacks that Liz abandoned were broken on the floor.

And Grandmother Althea was not in the house.

Liz apparated directly to Herr Schwarz’s office. 

"Fraulein Althea, bitte, kom mit."

Liz jumped. He was right behind her, apparently coming back from a late lunch out of the office. With a racing heart, she followed him inside, just barely, as not to make a scene in the street when she said, "Do you have news of my Grandmother? I was just at the house, and it’s a mess, and she’s gone, and I hate her, but I don’t want her to be hurt, or -- or --"

"All right, Fraulein, all right. Sit down here," he gestured to one of the two chairs that always stayed in front of his desk. Liz accepted the offer gratefully, while Herr Schwarz tapped a warming charm on a pot of tea. "Now, Liebkind, I am going to call M.L.E. via floo to check on the house. Here is a cuppa, just sit tight."

It was surprisingly easy to calm down in this office. Liz sat back, sipped the hot tea, and distracted herself with a wonderful memory. She was in this exact chair, with Professor Flitwick in the chair next to her and her parents standing behind her, daddy gripping the back of her chair, and all of them beaming proudly. It was the day she signed the paperwork for her first patent, the original music box with its three simple ingredients and three binding spells for recording and playback.

On that day, Herr Schwarz had already lined up a half dozen parties interested in licensing the work, St. Mungo’s among them. She felt so accomplished that day, like everything in her life was going right. She had tried using this memory for a Patronus charm, but she never did get a corporeal result. Working on that charm might be a benefit of joining Dumbledore’s Army in September.

Back in the present, Herr Schwarz returned, looking serious but not grave. "I want you to stay here until they clear the building. It could be a couple of hours as they have been using extra Dark Detectors at every crime scene."

"I’m on lock-down with you?" She hoped she didn’t sound out loud as whiny as she sounded in her head.

"M.L.E. will investigate the break-in at the house. I will have to pull it off the market until it is no longer considered a crime scene."

"Oh! That’s why you needed me to see if she would leave peacefully. I’m so sorry to be slow on the uptake there."

"Quite all right, Fraulein. Now, let M.L.E. worry about all that. I’ll send you back to the Blumwands in time for supper. For now, let’s talk business. I received an interesting note this morning from Herr Fred Weasley and Herr George Weasley..."

She was grateful for the opportunity to shut off her emotions and go into business mode, but she did not want to linger in that state. She rather liked her emotions, even the painful ones. "Yes, yes. Please take the usual diligence with setting this one up. I wish to be compensated fairly, but it is paramount to actually grant the license. Your judgment in my business affairs has always been without fault, so I will leave the details to you. A more pressing matter to me is the problem with my post."

"Of course, Lizzy. It was lucky that we discussed how much time you have been spending with Severus Snape, as he came by yesterday on business for Fatin’s Looks. He assured me that it was safe to send a message through him."

Liz smiled. "Yes, indeed. In fact, would you mind terribly accepting concealed post from me, possibly through him, to pass along with your regular outgoing post? I do not mean to impose, but I expect it to be no more than just a few letters, and surely you have a great deal of owls in and out through the day?"

Werner Schwarz studied the girl across from him very carefully. Had she been any less strung out, Liz might have squirmed under his scrutiny. Finally, he said, "Did your mother put that idea in your head?"

Her heart leapt. "No. Has she asked you a similar favor?"

He nodded slowly as he began to speak. "Just after you were born, I believe. Every few months she would have something for me to pass on, but that stopped when she went abroad years ago."

"So you'll do it?"

"Ja, Fraulein. I want to warn you again to watch your back. You must be in much deeper than I thought."

"Deeper into what?"

Herr Schwarz sighed. "Sila was very good at protecting me, so I don't know much. But anyone who watched the papers after the first war against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named could tell you that Professor Snape was and probably is a double-agent with a great deal of influence on both sides. I was not at all thrilled when I discovered that Sila recruited my Marlena to work with them. Marlena has assured me that both Snape and your mother are honest and fair colleagues, but I cannot shake my suspicions."

"Nor should you," Liz said quickly. "Marlena Blumwand is your daughter?"

"Hmm," he stalled. "Maybe you are not in so deep."

Liz rolled her eyes. "I feel like I know very little. I'm hoping to get some answers soon, but I have to devote my full attention to the task. Do we have any further business to conclude here?"

"No. Would you care to assist me this afternoon? Or rather, do you remember how to file my parchments?" He winked at her.

It had been a few years, but Lizzy remembered, and she grinned at how well they were doing today, after the horrible way she felt the last time they had talked. "I’m ready to help. It will be good to give myself a break from all the stress."

The next two hours passed in companionable silence, or quiet instruction, as Herr Schwarz taught her a great deal about the paperwork of his business, especially the legal documents she would ultimately sign. The Weasley deal was completed, and all of the filing finished, and they were just about through with the dusting and mopping charms when the floo flared and the all-clear was given at Liz’s house. "All right, Fraulein. Go straight back to Marlena. I will contact you whenever I hear from M.L.E. Both properties are now waiting on investigations, so they may not sell as quickly and cleanly as you wished."

Liz sighed. "No matter, since I have another place to stay. Thank you for taking care of me today. Please be sure to bill me at your hourly consultation rate."

He caught her hand in his before she could turn to the fireplace. "Be careful, Fraulein. I don’t know why your mother always danced on the edge of danger. I still don’t know what she wanted from Snape. You are just growing into your own woman, Lizzy, and I wish you the best of luck and wisdom as you make your choices."

She wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. This was a much more pleasant experience than the last time she had been here. He hadn't explicitly forgiven her, but somehow coming to him in a panic today had reset their business rapport. She suspected that the way she helped his granddaughter had something to do with it, too. A simple "Thank you" passed her lips, and he whispered, "Auf wiedersehen," as she finally turned to the floo.

Back at the Blumwands' home, Liz was hounded about her day over dinner. She grew irritable, finally snapping that she didn’t want to talk about it until she had more time to think about it first. When they started talking about their own activities that day, she calmed down considerably, and even enjoyed listening.

Once they washed up, Liz very patiently sat back with Thomas and Marlena as Julia showed them what she learned in her music lesson that day. The girl's eyes were bright and clear as she played simple little tunes for them on the piano, expressed some frustrations over sheet music, and then practiced her drum drills. The repetitive snap of the snare was soothing to Liz, and she passed out in a cozy chair, waking only long enough to mumble small thanks when Thomas carried her up to her room. 


	9. Lights Off, Lights On; I Guess the Groove Is On

#  P1Ch9 Playlist

  * Title track: "Diggin On You" by TLC 1994
  * "Whiskey in the Jar" by the Dubliners 1967 (Metallica 1998)
  * "Falling Into Grace" by The Red Hot Chili Peppers 1995
  * _she continued to hum and sing dirty rock tunes_



Chapter 9 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6RCzgOBurbfHqdK4nJ06tF?si=kNIX29dNTdmI9BkzLJOFsg>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 9: Lights Off, Lights On; I Guess the Groove Is On

Thursday dawned dreary and misty. Having gotten a superb night's sleep, Liz woke early and took the opportunity to pamper herself in the bath. She cleaned and groomed herself thoroughly, marveling at the natural way her custom-charmed hair behaved. She added to her to-do list the need to ask Snape to demonstrate the glamour for her.

Working that morning was a cake-walk. She shadowed Jason at the free walk-in clinic, treating a handful of injuries, mostly from the aftermath of a botched spell or potion. She spared a moment to marvel at how few mishaps seemed to occur at Hogwarts. It was a mark of the quality teachers, she was sure. She would have to ask Snape about his wards on the dungeons, and if that's why most errors resulted in cauldrons melting rather than exploding.

Liz was most surprised at how much of the job involved consulting with different Healers and doing research on the maladies. She had done such work before, usually on viral and bacterial conditions, but she had much more experience with the intuitive approach she took with her hands. 

Jason was thrilled at that. "Well, Liz, thanks to you we are actually done now, just before lunch. Usually I'm here for a few hours afterward, puzzling over cases with anywhere from 2 to 10 admitted for observation before we prescribe a treatment."

She smirked. Today they only had to admit two patients, and it was to observe their reactions to her unorthodox treatment rather than diagnosing their symptoms. "Shall we skive off early, then?" she asked good-naturedly. Inside she was burning for a chance to get back to her mother's diary. Simply observing Julia's music practice last night was only justified by how tired Liz had been. Today she needed to get back on task.

"Only if I can buy you lunch."

"Deal!"

They wound up at the same place Tonks had taken her. The same waiter (what was his name, again?) recognized her and assured her that they would have something new to tempt them. And then they were left alone to wait.

Liz felt a distinct discomfort with the silence, but she didn't feel like talking. Maybe the right question would relieve her of both problems. "So, I'm learning a lot about your work, but maybe you could tell me something else? What's your family like?"

"Well, my parents are retired, and they have a nice place in France. My father's grandmother was a muggle, and that side of the family doesn't get on very well. Mum's family is all in France, and mum herself went to Beauxbatons, and then studied with the Parisian Healer's Association. She was also a healer, and that's what brought her here."

"Oh, she also worked at St. Mungo's before she retired?"

"Something like that. I went to Hogwarts. Class of 1988."

They were interrupted by the arrival of a pair of very large salads, topped with chicken and fruit. Liz was pleased, carefully picking out different combinations of the ingredients to sample with each bite. 

Jason continued the conversation. "So, Liz, how did you begin healing?"

She swallowed a chunk of a fresh peach, but she did not really taste it. What could she tell him? She hoped the pause wasn’t too uncomfortable as she stared into her salad bowl. Then, finally, she said, "When I was very young, my mother left us, and I lost myself in music. I decided I wanted to be a rock star. I was still young and consumed with this future, when my mother returned. For nearly two years she allowed me to believe that I could be a musician. She encouraged it, especially dancing, and she helped me discover my own music tastes. And then when I was twelve, well, let’s just say that’s when we discovered the Healing Touch in me, and all my passion for music suddenly had to take a back seat."

When she paused, Jason was quick with the sympathy. "Do you still love music?"

Mildly irritated by the sentiment, Liz said, "Of course I do. You never stop loving music. In fact, tomorrow I will bring my mother’s music box for her. I’ll visit Gringotts as soon as we are done here, to fetch it, and I will verify its contents before bringing it in to work tomorrow." She flashed him a big grin before she changed back on topic, "Anyway, over the years I’ve learned that I do enjoy healing, in the way I can relieve pain. But I’ve also learned that not all ailments come from the body or wand. Our own minds need medicine, and, for me, music is that medicine."

As they finished their meals, Jason sized her up. When he finally set his fork down, he said, "Liz, do you want to go dancing?"

She smiled sweetly. "I love dancing."

"Great! After work tomorrow, let me take you out to celebrate your first week on the job. Let’s talk details tomorrow. I’m sure you want to get to Gringotts and get going, to make the most of our free afternoon."

They shared a conspiratorial grin before parting ways.

\------------------------------

Finally alone, locked in her room at the Blumwand home, Liz carefully unwrapped the package from Snape and set the contents next to her mother’s diary. It was just a small vial of a potion and a short note.

_ Pour it down the spine, tap with your wand, and say, "Dissere" –SS _

After completing these instructions, she opened the book to look inside and nearly dropped it. It was Sila’s pretty script, perfectly legible and perfectly preserved. This was it!

The first several pages of the book had been ripped out, and the new first page held a date that Liz recognized as the time just before her mother had come home again while Liz was just ten years old.

_ 16 May 1989 _

_ They’ve agreed to train my daughter. Aicha thinks it is a mistake. I know I am doing the right thing by making my daughter a desirable ally. Or at least a desirable tool. Either way, when the next war comes, and it surely will come, then Lizzy will be ready not only to survive, but to live. _

_ I have been warned, though, by a powerful Seer, that Persephone will be tempted by Hades. I do not know how many pomegranate seeds she will have to consume to keep balanced. _

_ 20 May 1989 _

_ I am almost ready to return to London, but Suloos sent me a letter from Greece that I need to consider. He has also agreed to train Lizzy, and suggests that we perform his training first. I should have realized that whoever works with her first will have an advantage. Here, the elders have told me that she must still be untouched when they train her, or it won’t work at all. I’m delaying my travel plans until I reach a decision. _

_ Today I am Demeter, unaware of the threat of the narcissus, and I may not be able to control what happens next. _

Well that confirmed one thing for sure: Sila Althea did have a plan for Liz, and having those plans de-railed that night in Cameroon did not just delay the plan, but completely altered it. Liz’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as she re-read the second entry. Specifically, she was concerned about the word _untouched._ Untouched by what? If she had to guess, Liz would probably say  _ dark magic. _ She remembered reading somewhere else that the first experience with dark magic was always something profound in a person’s life, and that there were countless rituals to coincide with the first time. 

Also of great concern were the references to the myth of Demeter and Persephone. Was it another code? Or was Sila beginning to go mad? Liz made a mental note to brush up on her Greek myths.

Then she skipped ahead a few pages.

_ 10 October 1990 _

_ Lizzy is at school, and Markus irritates me more every day. He knows I am taking Lizzy abroad over the winter holiday, and he is asking a lot of questions. I have told him that there are a number of ladies-only spa resorts, and that I'd like some quality time alone with Lizzy. I have also told him about the musicians of the village where we will stay, and he agrees that enriching Lizzy’s musical talents is a positive way to spend the holidays. He doesn’t really understand why he cannot come along, but he is placated by the potential riches of a teenage rock star. The bottom line is the bottom line. _

_ He also grows weary of my abstinence in preparation of my autumn festival. The mysteries are most frustrating. _

There was a bit more to her venting about her sex life, and Liz just skimmed it so she could reflect upon her father's greed. It made sense. Liz had always wondered what her father had thought they were doing during all of those holidays. She rather thought daddy had known. On the other hand, she did feel like she had a memory or two of being upset herself when Sila had promised Liz such musical mentors and failed to deliver. Maybe if Liz read a bit further, she’d find an entry where Sila was more honest about that ruse.

But no, whatever happened between Sila and Markus to make him stop asking questions was not written over the next few months, and there was not another word about herself in those pages. In fact there was quite a bit more sexy stuff, erotic fantasies (she hoped it was just fantasy) with men (and a woman) whose names she did not recognize. It didn’t matter, though. Liz knew she hit paydirt when she found a very long entry.

_ 20 January 1991 _

_ Everything is ruined. I had no idea Lizzy was a natural healer. I feel so stupid, because there were signs. And I feel so angry about all the work I did that is now thrown away. I should never have agreed to follow through on her healing training. But here we are, with an Unbreakable Vow preventing me from pursuing the original plan for Lizzy, and a Tongue-Tying Curse preventing me from even speaking about it. I can’t even tell Lizzy and let her make the choice for herself. We are bound in more ways than one, but I will attempt to write it all here. And I will take reasonable precautions to prevent anyone from seeing this. In addition to my own encryption and trap, the moment the ink marks the page it is obscured, even to me. Severus did an excellent job on this book. _

Liz barely spared a second to be alarmed at the mention of a trap protecting the diary, for she was instantly distracted by the mention of Snape. And there was so much more Sila had to say on this date. She had hardly begun.

_ My husband and daughter have no idea that I am in business with him, but that’s what kept our little family safe during the war. There are days when I wish I had married him instead of Markus. My family would have approved, despite my having eight years on him. What’s eight years in the grand scheme of a wizard’s life anyway? But no, it was not meant to be. I married Markus shortly before I even met Severus, and Severus was hung up on some other woman. _

_ I loved Markus, once, and I love Lizzy dearly. She just wouldn’t be the same without Markus Althea as her father. He did an amazing job raising her while I was abroad, trying to find a new way to protect us. And I was certainly not going to fool myself into thinking that I could protect Lizzy forever, especially through a business association. When the Dark Lord rises again, he will surely be even more powerful, and the war correspondingly more bloody. Not to mention Persephone’s [here the ink squiggled illegibly to the end of the line]. _

_ My Lizzy will probably be on the battlefield, treating the wounded. She may really be Persephone incarnate, tasked with easing the transition of those who are dying. It is so far from my intention that it breaks my heart. We were supposed to be safe. The best case would have her at the side of a man like Severus, and at worst she would have been a weapon. _

_ You see, diary, in the summer of 1977 I met Suloos, the Eunuch of Lesvos. Despite his anatomical handicap, the man is a master of seduction and the power of pleasure. _

Oh good gods. There was more, much more, but Liz wasn’t sure she could keep reading. She had a pretty good idea where this was going now, and it – yep, it was turning her stomach. She bolted to the loo, dropped the book next to the toilet bowl, and became violently sick. When she was done heaving, but still breathing heavily, she leaned her head against the porcelain and sobbed. She had wanted to believe the best of her own mother. She had wanted to believe that there was some grand scheme to keep Liz safe and sound. She wanted to believe that Sila was not totally insane, before she had been broken.

Extremely thankful for the silence from the mirror, Liz hauled herself up to clean her face. Then, she gingerly picked up the book one more time, sat upon the closed toilet lid, and somehow finished reading the paragraphs about how Suloos the Eunuch had pleasured Sila Althea into a  _ new inspiration. _ Yes, indeed, Liz was right about her prediction. Mum had wanted her to be some kind of sex goddess, even before she had been born. And the training period for this skill was supposed to have begun at the age of twelve.

Liz couldn’t help but think that Sila was a fool. She read on and learned about the intended training from Suloos, Aicha, Madam Miku and Kochi-san, among others. It was bizarre to read so many familiar names in this context. Sila had done her best to introduce Liz to the intended experts, but she was bound by that Unbreakable Vow to make healing a bigger priority, and Liz got to have her introduction to sex on her own terms.

Suddenly, Liz was torn. That Unbreakable Vow had stopped her mother's horrific plan. But Liz had still been exposed to the reality of sex, and that allowed her to take a knowledgeable stance on reproductive rights and education, the one part of healing for which Liz felt some passion.

In addition, Liz had not taken any such vow. Mum couldn't say anything back then, but she had found a loophole to allow Liz a conscious choice for or against healing. Right now. 

As she considered further, Liz picked herself up off the floor, took a long look in the mirror, and thought critically about Sila's original plan. It seemed like Liz's mum did not care whether Liz would choose to do good or evil with her seductive prowess, as long as she could ensnare plenty of potential defenders of her safety. She just wanted to ensure some protection, to be safe during what turned out to be a very accurate prediction of the Dark Lord's return. Could Liz have really been some sort of sex goddess? She entertained a fantasy of being more beautiful, more confident, and a master of seduction for both men and women. She would be full of light and benevolence and give love freely, healing not just the body but the mind, heart, and soul. Just like the Moon Priestess.

And then something clicked. The Moon Priestess was a witch who constantly straddled the Grey Line of Intent, and Liz  _ had _ learned hard lessons about sexology and reproductive health during her stay with the coven. It was actually really awkward, the way Sila was quite honest and over-shared her sensual enthusiasm with the  _ defenders _ that served the coven. Despite very few entries from that time, the Moon Priestess must have been another sex expert that Sila had intended for Liz all along.

Just like Suloos, who had a boatload of rare curses that routinely challenged the elite True Healers of the world, including the curse that relieved him of his genitalia but whipped up his lust. Liz was willing to bet that reading further would give her new insight on her lovers from France, and others as well. The only places she was not sure about were Russia and across the pond. She had what you might call a normal boyfriend during her stay on the prairie, if normal was a sweet muggle boy close to her own age, a weed pusher at his high school. Bradley was his name, and he was very understanding about Liz's distinct  _ lack _ of interest in sex after her education on the reservation about the so-called schools --

Liz literally shook herself, trying to reclaim her focus from that unwelcome tangent of genocide, and then she slowly made her way back to her own room, her own bed, where she laid down, clutching the diary to her chest, finger still marking the entry where she had left off. She wasn't sure she was ready for the rest, so she skipped ahead several pages.

And then she abruptly wished she hadn't. The mythology had taken over the entries completely, and yet, there was something very familiar about it.

_ 1 September 1992 _

_ Demeter wept, for Persephone was gone. The lands became barren, and there was no harvest. Persephone had been warned, but only vaguely, and when she gave in to the temptation of the pomegranate, she unknowingly broke Demeter's heart. Persephone now belonged to Hades, but for a precious few months of the year. _

Liz tried hard to remember. That date was her first day of her third year at Hogwarts. She had a big fight with her mother right before she left, because Liz intended to study music. "Forget healing!" she had shrieked. "Healing only ever makes me sad! The secrets scare me! I want to rock and roll! I'm going to play music!" For all her talk, for all Liz had done at school to learn the magic of her music, she had come home for the winter holidays contrite, ready to reconcile, and Sila had swept her away to America. 

She had no idea that their fight may have been some kind of breaking point for her mother.

Skimming ahead, Liz discovered that, aside from a handful of inline squiggles and four whole illegible passages, the rest of the diary was written in the same way, referencing Greek mythological figures. It was disturbing, as though Sila could no longer discern the myth from reality. It was as though Siladora Demeter Avery Althea thought she really was the goddess Demeter, and that Persephone Lysandra Althea was really the goddess Persephone.

So whom did she think was Hades? It was all too vague, and Liz had a nagging suspicion that it was the Dark Lord himself. Did Liz's mother really picture her as some kind of Queen of the Darkness? Was Sila's insanity a result of the realization that Liz's heart was full of light and love?

And with that thought, Liz had had enough. Her mother was very ill. She needed to be at St. Mungo's long before she actually landed there. 

Liz closed the diary, and she briefly contemplated burning it. It hurt, badly, to know her mother had been so ill for so long. 

And then, for the first time in a very long time, Persephone wept for Demeter.

\------------------------------

Liz overslept. It was probably rest that she desperately needed, so she was forcing herself not to feel bad about running 20 minutes late. Having had her cry out, Liz faced the day with renewed spirit, determined to do quality work for St. Mungo’s and trying valiantly to shake her melancholy. She asked herself, what was really different today from yesterday, other than her own awareness? Work could be a distraction, buying her some time to process what she read.

She knew she’d be doing office work today, so she put on a comfortable green dress that provided modest coverage but was very form-fitted, picking out a pair of four-inch heels to give her backside a little shapely improvement and would force most of the people around her to look up for eye contact. This made her feel instantly better, like she could pull off a happy day.

Thinking about dancing that evening, Liz practically skipped with energy during the in-depth tour of the facility (St. Mungo’s was really an impressive place, and their humongous research library made Liz twitch in giddy anticipation); she grinned through the two hours of tedious paperwork; she even playfully flirted with Jason Kayson, who eagerly joined the game.

Finally, Liz scratched her signature onto one last parchment, passed them to Jason for verification, and got up to stretch. Her shoulders were sore, and her face was tensed from smiling more in one day than she had in ten days. She rubbed her eyes, sliding up her glasses and massaging around her cheekbones to loosen up.

When she looked back at Jason, he had a small smile on his face and was beckoning her. He waggled the parchment she just handed to him, while also waggling his eyebrows.

Liz stuck out her tongue but complied, rounding his desk to look at her mistake.

"You only missed an initial line on this one here."

It was an easy fix, and so it happened very fast after Liz laid down the quill that Jason took advantage of their proximity and pulled her into his lap. She let escape a little "Eeep!" sound, and she had to throw her arms around his neck as to not slip off him and hit the floor.

"There now, Liz. You did very well with all this. Accuracy with a quill is usually a hard-won skill amongst St. Mungo’s Healers. It’s definitely not our favorite part of the job, which is why the interns always get stuck with it."

"This is nothing. You should see the American healthcare system. Besides, I’m pretty good with arithmetic, which helps a lot here."

She was still sitting in his lap, his left arm wrapped around her waist and his right hand gripping just above her knee to hold her steady. "Spend the day with me, Liz."

Her smile faltered, and she sighed. Her right arm still snaked around his shoulders and neck for balance, she lifted her left hand to his face. "I’m sorry, Jason. I have some things I need to do. Let’s dance tonight, and then see what comes next."

He clearly caught the serious change in her demeanor, and he simply nodded. When she pulled back, he loosened his grip, and she slid neatly to her feet.

"It starts with seeing my mother. Ideally, I would take her someplace she loves, somewhere comfortable. Can I just sign her out for the day? Then I could bring her back here and meet you for our date."

"Hmm. We have all the paperwork that says she is your responsibility, but this is a strange request. I would like to consult with Healer Bradstreet to see if she has any recommendations before moving her."

"That sounds reasonable."

"But Healer Bradstreet is not in today. Her schedule is all afternoons on Monday through Thursday."

Damn. Was there a good way to express her urgency about getting mum away from the hospital? Probably not, and as a healer herself, Liz had a certain appreciation for respecting off-duty time unless there was a true emergency. "All right, well, can we leave her a message for Monday?"

"Sure. I’ll write it up and get it to her inbox. I'll even see if I can floo her at home tomorrow while you are working in the poisons and venoms lab. For now, you go on and see your mother. Let's meet for our dance date at the Three Broomsticks. The Warlocks of Wonderland are playing at eight."

Liz beamed. "I love them! Thank you!"

He winked and tossed his keys to her, so she stole quickly and quietly down to her mother’s room. Sila was sitting, eyes closed, in the chair next to her bed. Liz shuffled her feet loudly, but Sila did not react.

Liz knelt next to her and whispered, "Mum?"

Still nothing.

"Sila?"

Her eyes cracked open, but they were unfocused.

Liz gulped, and then she set her mother's music box on the one little table by the bed. "What would you like to listen to?"

Slowly blinking at Liz, Sila whispered, "The bubbling cauldron." Then, at normal volume, "The popping of the cork." Eyes wide but unseeing, "The wrong victim screams." Then Sila closed her eyes. It was like a dismissal.

So Liz closed her eyes too, against the tears threatening to leak. She literally shook herself. It wouldn't do to break down. Forcing her eyes open, she ground out, "I'm sorry, mum. I don't understand it all yet, and I don't know what to do. But the cauldrons and corks may be at my disposal. I am trying. For now..." She flicked her wand at the music box and simply said, " _ Shuffle All _ ."

As the music played, nice and low, Liz tried several more lines of questioning, but her mother did not show any indication that she heard, and Liz was sure that she simply couldn't ask the right questions. She needed more time with the diary.

And with that realization, Liz whispered goodbye, sparing only a small smile for Jason as she returned his keys.

Back at the Blumwands', Liz went straight to the kitchen and was mildly surprised to have to hunt for Lippy. She was startled by Thomas coming up behind her. "Oh, Lizzy, can I make you a sandwich? Marlena is still at work, and I just sent Julia to her lesson."

"Thanks. A sandwich would be just about right."

First, Thomas poured a glass of water and set it in front of her. As he put together a sliced turkey sandwich, he said, "So tell me, how is the job?"

"It's fine. I need some time to process it all. I was actually intending to spend the afternoon alone, thinking and planning."

"Fair enough" he responded, handing her the plate. "I'll let you eat in peace, and I myself will be working in my office, if you need me."

With a grateful smile, she said, "Actually, an hour on your computer would help me catch up on the latest music." Then she grimaced, missing his enthusiastic nod. "Well, I really need to work on some other things."

He reached to lift her chin up, and she let him. His expression reminded her of the way her daddy used to look at her. On this thought, her heart swelled and her lip trembled. Quickly and smoothly, Thomas came around and held her tightly, and she let out a breathy sob. 

Scrambling for control of her emotions, she said, "I don't want to cry all over you. You've done so much for me already."

His grip tightened, and she screwed her eyes shut, trying to relax, even as she felt like she was betraying a feeling she held only for daddy.

"It's all right, little Lizzy." Thomas smoothed back her hair and planted a swift kiss on her forehead. "Saving my baby girl... that's a kindness I can never repay."

At first she was disconcerted by the use of an endearment her father had often used, but the followup was immediately calming. Debt was something Liz understood well, and she had plenty of experience negotiating it down. In her opinion, being owed a debt was almost as bad as owing it. Her voice soft and measured, Liz said calmly, "It was a team effort, so please don't prop me on some pedestal. And besides, I don't need much, Thomas. A place to sleep, a little privacy. I'm a bit of a nomad, really. I'll miss my underground potions rig, but it was fairly rickety, and soon I'll head back --"

"Little Lizzy," he interrupted, "My home is your home, as long as you want it. We can clear out the cellar for your potions equipment, and that space is yours, even after you head back to Hogwarts. There is certainly room in my heart for another daughter."

Still in his arms, she trembled. She just wanted a new place to work, and he was offering her a place in his family. She whispered, "Everyone close to me gets hurt. Those who protect me get attacked."

"Oh, hush," he said, embracing her tightly. "It's not your fault. And I don't want you to work too hard today. Be sure you come away from those other things and get that hour with my computer."

She smiled and shifted in her seat. Thomas got the message and loosened his grip, but he kept one hand at her shoulder. Liz bit her lip and said, "I have a date later. That will be today's fun." She eyed her sandwich and began devouring it.

Thomas calmly poured himself a pumpkin juice, took one sip, and spoke again, "A date, you say? Where? With whom?"

Liz covered her mouth to hide a sandwich-filled grin. She chewed, swallowed, and chuckled. "Putting in a real dad performance already? Well, then, Healer Kayson is taking me dancing tonight."

Apparently this was not what Thomas expected, as he did a bit of a spit-take with his juice, making Liz lean back with her lunch in hand. 

"Problem?"

"No, no," he said, wiping his face with a handkerchief, "just not what I expected."

"Oh? And what did you expect?"

"Well, I thought you and Severus..."

Liz frowned and instinctively chose to play dumb, shrugging her shoulders and flouncing off.

Safely locked and warded in her room at the Blumwands' home, Liz made a new to-do list.

  1. Enjoy dancing with Jason. Sort out feelings about sudden popularity with men.
  2. Get ahold of MLE report on house break-in. What happened to Grandmother?
  3. Snape Glamour & Diary. Dark Lord v Dumbledore. Massage. Dungeon wards for my new potions rig?
  4. Take Julia to see Sila. Prepare better questions.
  5. Consider Longbottom's offer to join the DA.
  6. Help fix what I broke between Tonks & Lupin. Double date? With whom?



Oof. Liz's daily to-do lists were getting longer and more complicated. She had many relationships to cultivate. She would need plenty of information and allies to figure out what her mother had already set up for her future, and what she could still do to control her own life.

At least the people closer to her own age were less sly and unpredictable. After her date with Jason tonight, she'd have a better idea if he'd be a good choice for a dancing double-date. Otherwise she might have to ask George Weasley. As tempting as it was to get Snape's reaction to such a request, she had a bad feeling about putting Snape and Lupin in a room together. In fact, Snape must have some issue beyond the safety of Hogwarts to have outed the werewolf like he did those years ago, and, just the other day, Lupin had seemed surprised that Liz would recommend Snape's help with contraceptives.

Bugger. Was that very suggestion the problem she caused? Could Lupin be having doubts that his best chance to continue being intimate with Tonks was through the help of an adversary? Liz had rather assumed that Lupin would share the results of their visit with Tonks, but maybe she should find a way to ask what Tonks knew about contraception without blowing healer-patient confidence out of the water.

Liz penned a quick letter to Tonks, asking to meet up for a drink the following night. Maybe the "dead clumsy" woman could be convinced to try a dancing lesson, too. 

That sent, she moved on to the next easiest list item. Longbottom's offer would probably have to wait for September, and who knows what Potter's DA crew would think of her. On the other hand, it was fairly obvious that Granger was the real brains behind it. That nasty curse for the squealer was downright Slytherin. But that would be the other problem -- how would her Slytherin housemates react if they found out she was involved. She had been the only Slytherin prefect  _ not _ on the Inquisitorial Squad, and that neutral stance was dangerous enough. September seemed like so long from now. 

And with that, Liz decided she was ready to primp for her date. 

First it was soaking in the bath. Then it was clothes. What could she wear that would turn heads but not give the wrong idea? Above that, what would be most comfortable and match a good pair of dancing shoes? Then it was the makeup. Liz didn’t wear much while working, but she took extra care today to be sure to glow. She wanted to be the prettiest girl at the bar, since she would probably out-dance Jason and need to attract a new partner later on!

Fussing over her appearance was also a good distraction away from her mother’s diary, which was now a constant nag at the back of her mind. She had been through so much lately, and Liz thought she deserved a break to have some fun before possibly learning more life-changing information.

And it was with that attitude that Liz bounced through the floo to meet Jason, held his hand when he offered to escort her to the bar to order drinks, and toasted to Rosmerta with the first round. "To you," Liz said, "the hostess of our fun outing!" Liz’s empty glass landed shortly on the bar, along with a generous tip and an order for more.

This time Liz was buying a round for the band, who were setting up their instruments. "Gentlemen," she greeted them, as Jason carried over a tray, "A pint to kick off the performance?"

Lo and behold, one of the band members recognized her. "Lizzy? You’ve grown up! Damn shame about The Raven Witch. We always liked playing there." Another piped up, the bassist, she thought, but couldn't remember any of their names. "Grown up is right," he said, clearly checking her out, "and do you still play and sing, Lizzy?"

"Of course she does, you lech," drawled the drummer from behind his kit. "Her name is on my sticks." He tossed one at the bassist, who admired the wood-burned print,  _ Liz's Boomerang, _ near the grip before the drummer flicked his wrist to call it back to him. "There's a whole  _ Liz's _ line over at Gear Acquisition Syndrome. Great shop, by the way, good choice for distributing your goods. I also use your chrome polish, but, Liz, you must really wail if you needed to invent a new charm for retrieving lost sticks."

Liz grinned sheepishly. "Still love music, that’s for sure. I play when I can, and no one can stop my singing. And even with the enchanted drumsticks, it's wise to keep an extra pair tucked somewhere in reach from your throne." She grinned. "But tonight I came to dance." She glanced at Jason, who had stood by politely during the exchange. "This one did a good job picking out a date for me, so I’m going to reward him by busting some serious moves." She winked at them, and turned to Jason to let them finish setting up.

"Well have fun, but don’t be surprised if we ask you for a song later!"

And with that Liz took Jason by the hand again and settled them into a booth on the opposite side of the room. She sipped on her beer and said, "They are good guys, but they will get hammered and then cajole me into singing. I can’t believe they remember me. I think I was twelve years old the last time we jammed at the Raven Witch, and they got totally wasted."

"You must have left a good impression," said Jason, grinning at Liz. "I wouldn’t mind hearing you sing later. I’m told that True Healers tend to have beautiful voices."

"When honed properly, I suppose so." Liz’s face fell. "But healers tend to sing out of tragic necessity."

Jason looked stricken, and then shook his head, a slightly suspicious expression replacing the shock of the mood swing. "Is it always like a rollercoaster with you? One minute you’re as happy as I’ve ever seen you, and the next clearly remembering something terrible. I noticed it several times Wednesday with the difficult cases in Spell Damage. Less so yesterday during clinic. Generally us healers are a pretty detached lot, and it makes me wonder about the things you've seen that could make you so uneasy at the drop of a hat." 

Through this Liz, nodded slowly, absently. Something irked her about his question, and she was considering how best to respond without running him off. When Jason finally shut up, Liz said, "I love rollercoasters. I think it's the same reason I love performing. It's a thrill. Furthermore," she was getting a little snippy now, "I think my recent experiences completely justify my moodiness."

While she talked, Jason's face fell. "Liz, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said, offering a very weak smile. "I just want to have fun tonight. I think I've earned it, and I would like to have a friendly partner in the fun. You're right. My life is like a rollercoaster. Ups and downs. But no matter how far it drops, it always goes back up. The only down that stays down is when you get off the ride. So, I promise to keep my mood in check for the rest of the night. All right?"

After he nodded, they contemplated one another in silence, finishing their drinks as the band played the first note of the night. And then they danced. Liz's irritation vanished in the pure entertainment of moving to the beat. She felt it in her blood and in her bones, the joy and euphoria of physical expression to music. It started out fun and light, but over the next two hours and several drinks, the fast-paced, swing-like moves turned slower, sexier, and closer. Jason snuck a quick little kiss during a drink break, and it was charming. The next day Liz would vaguely remember that kiss and how she blushed, thinking that he showed good promise as a kisser, before quickly downing a fresh pint.

Then she plastered a big grin on her face, drank the rest of the beer Jason had been nursing, and took him by the hand back to the floor. Later, during a rendition of Whiskey in the Jar, they stood side by side, swaying and waving their refilled pint glasses, singing along with big smiles. Jason's hands dropped lower and lower down Liz’s back, and as the music stopped, she was about to tell him off for groping her arse when she was called to the stage.

Quite the crowd had gathered, and Liz was handed yet another drink along with her task of what to sing while the Warlocks played. Their tunes had gone gradually from folk to funk, and she was thrilled they knew covers from her favorite band.

_ From Falling Into Grace by The Red Hot Chili Peppers _

_ What ever never knew that I could feel so good  
_ _ Smile in your eyes  
_ _ What ever never knew that I could walk through wood  
_ _ I guess I never tried  
_ _ A million years old, but just a little girl  
_ _ Vibin' off the gong  
_ _ Rubbin' on the bowls, make you float around  
_ _ Make your lovin' strong _

_ And when we get in the same place  
_ _ At the same time it is your grace  
_ _ That I want to fall right into now  
_ _ To love avow _

_ I'm falling into grace with you  
_ _ I'm falling into guru muhk  
_ _ I'm falling into grace with you  
_ _ I'm falling into guru muhk _

_ She moves in a rapture that her capsule might  
_ _ Land on your star  
_ _ Meditating in the morning head dressed in white  
_ _ Beauty bazaar _

_ You can smell the purple light comin' from her heart  
_ _ Get lost and wet  
_ _ I treat you like a teacher cuz that's what you are  
_ _ I wanna be your pet _

_ And when we get in the same place  
_ _ At the same time it is your grace  
_ _ That I want to fall right into now  
_ _ To love avow _

She begged off after the one song, her nose itching like mad from the way she had breathed in a mis-timed sip of her drink between lyrics, and Jason came to her rescue. She was feeling a touch nauseated, and even though he pressed another drink in her hand, he also led her away to find a place to sit. In Liz’s daze, she didn’t object to their path up the stairs. She didn’t object to being deposited on a bed. She didn’t object when the drink was taken out of her hand, tipped gently down her throat, and replaced with a rather intimate part of Jason Kayson’s anatomy. Quite the opposite of objecting, she continued to hum and sing dirty rock tunes.

She probably should have said no. He probably should not have taken advantage. Neither of them really cared. Liz was her usual responsible self, but only in that she understood how to be responsible for her own orgasm.

She got what she wanted. A thrill. Fun. Even some physical satisfaction and release. As they both dozed afterward, Liz’s last thought was that Jason might have been an excellent partner, if only she could be satisfied with a life dedicated to the healing arts and detached emotions.

It was too bad, really.

Liz groggily dragged herself out of bed sometime after four in the morning. She would see Jason again in a few hours, to start the last half-day of her work week, but she needed to clear her head, change clothes, and get something substantial to eat.

Thomas and Marlena had tried to wait up, and Liz woke them up from dozing on the couch when she flooed in. After receiving a proper scolding for being out all night (Liz tried not to smirk through it, wondering if this was what normal 17-year-olds experienced), she was fed and sent to bed to catch a couple of hours of rest before work.

Liz was downright chipper as she flooed to St. Mungo’s a few hours later. She would vehemently deny glowing, but letting loose for a night felt great, and it improved Liz’s mood considerably.

That is, until she checked in for her shift and got a serious glare from the secretary. "Healer Kayson needs to see you in his office immediately."

Uh oh. Was he going to be weird? Or was she going to be in trouble? Maybe she should have left a note or something, instead of cold space in the bed. If he couldn’t handle waiting a few hours to see her, maybe she could dodge a bullet by shutting down any hopes right here and now.

Liz was not prepared for the look of anguish on Jason’s face when she stepped into his office. 

"Come in," he had barely choked out, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

Liz slowly slid into the seat. "Jason?" she asked, "What’s wrong?"

Very slowly, Jason said, "I want you to know that I’m very sorry. I should not have let things get out of control, not least of all so quickly. I --"

"Jason," Liz interrupted, repeating herself. "What’s wrong?"

He offered her a strained smile, acknowledging that she let him off the hook for any apologies. So far. Finally, he got to the point: "We were watched on the dance floor, and we were watched as we went upstairs."

"I see." Except she didn’t. Why would anyone care what they did in their off hours? She had a fleeting moment of paranoia that maybe more people than just Snape were tasked with keeping an eye on her. This was followed by panic at what Snape might say to her if he had been the one watching.

Thankfully, Jason didn't dawdle any further. "They reported to my superiors, and they think it’s best if we terminate your internship immediately. When I tried to speak on your behalf, I was told very plainly that any defense of your position would result in packing up my office as well."

"I see." And this time she did. She was disgusted by the pitiful look on Jason’s face. He was pleading with her, silently, to fall on this grenade. Liz sighed, closed her eyes, and looked inward for the right thing to do. 

He started talking again. "They have compiled a list of infractions against you. Some are completely bullshit things like dress code violations, but the top of the list is about how on your third day you arrived 20 minutes late and started shagging your supervisor. They --"

"Started?" Liz interrupted, her eyes snapping open. "No no, I think we’ve  _ finished _ any shagging we were destined to do." Liz rose out of her chair and squared her shoulders. "I will step aside to save your career, Jason. You sure as hell better make the most of it. I’ll be back in a few days to see my mother, and I intend to have Healer Bradstreet's approval to sign her out temporarily. I’ll expect your report as her primary healer at that time."

Her voice wavered a little by the end, and Jason took the moment to respond, "I think if we both leave then they won't pursue any action against us. It seems like what they want is silence, and the guarantee it won't happen again. We could both just go, and set up a private practice, maybe in Hogsmeade so that we can be close to the Three Broomsticks. I have a little saved -- we could hire some help and take care of your mother ourselves."

"Jason," Liz said very slowly, "No." She was about to elaborate when it hit her that he was being pushed around by someone. A mysterious "they" that peppered his argument, with the implication that it was his boss or bosses pressing him. Jason was very sweet, probably just trying to do right by her, but she swept out of the room and didn’t look back. She dropped her emergency notification device, unused, on Mrs. Hewitt's desk, and then she went back to the Blumwand house.

It was mercifully empty. Marlena was at work. Thomas and Julia were probably out together. Liz decided to spend the rest of the morning reading her mother’s diary, up in her room with the window open to let in some fresh air.

It provided no new epiphanies, which was very frustrating. She returned to the passage about the importance of her first "untouched" experience, and how she originally thought that meant Dark Magic. Liz closed the diary and tried to remember the first time she purposefully flirted with the dark. All healers do at some point, she was told, by the Moon Priestess. Some spells, substances, and artifacts were inherently dark, she said, but most important is intent. Intent is usually the grey line, and a healer must fight to stay on the lighter side.

And then she had taught Liz to brew a powerful restorative potion from unicorn blood, freely given by the beast and made with love for a friend of the Priestess who had fallen ill to some grave malady. Liz remembered the temptation vividly. The blood itself was imbued with raw power from the unicorn, and that power called to Liz, begging to be used. It was up to Liz and the Priestess to perform only good deeds, seizing control of the magic before the magic could seize control of them.

Liz wondered briefly what Snape would say to that story. Then she promptly turned off that train of thought and re-opened the diary, determined to find clearer answers.

But it was too hard to follow, and her exhaustion caught up with her again. She fell asleep, slumped over the vanity. She was dreaming, and in the dream she was dancing a slow little belly dance, a pair of small serpents performing their own winding dance in a circle around her. It was really quite soothing, right up until they struck, sinking their fangs into her over and over. One slithered up her body and struck her shoulder again and again.

And then she jolted awake to the pecks of a post owl.

It was a letter from Tonks, agreeing to meet up with Liz at the Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch -- Liz glanced at the clock -- in about an hour. Liz stretched her sore shoulders and literally shook off the lingering drowsy feeling. It was time to do right by her new friend.

\------------------------------

The Blumwands were still at the lunch table when Liz emerged. They were surprised that she had been home all morning, but Liz didn't have much time to explain. With a pang of guilt she entirely avoided the subject of her work, wolfed down a few bites of their pasta meal, and stepped through the floo.

Tonks was already seated at the bar. She looked ragged, miserable, and possibly already tipsy. "Oh, Tonks," Liz sighed gently as she slipped into the seat next to her. 

"Wotcher, Liz."

"Goodness, and I thought I would be the one getting sloppy after getting sacked today." She let Tonks absorb what she said while flagging down Tom to order a pint.

"Bugger me. I get why I've cocked up my life; what happened to you, mate?"

Liz took her time with a long pull of her drink before responding. She waited until Tonks was sipping to say, "Shagged the boss."

Tonks spluttered and sprayed her drink.

"Sorry," Liz said, in between cackles, "But not really. I've been waiting all day to say that. Tom? A rag?"

The rag that appeared before Liz was filthy, but she cast a freshening spell and wiped down the bar in front of them anyway.

Once Tonks appeared to be breathing normally again, she said, "Damn, Liz. You got brass. So you shagged the boss. And, what? He got weird?"

"Well, we were seen."

Another splutter, and this time the hoppy-smelling spray landed on Liz's robes. 

"Gross. That was less funny this time. He came under pressure to let me go quietly. I don't know what's coming next, but I suspect I'll be finding out tomorrow. In the meantime, I want to drink and dance. Those are about the only things I've enjoyed lately. And, of course, matching wits with Snape." 

"Snape?" Tonks shuddered. "You  _ like _ that git? I take it back. It's not brass. It's sheer madness."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Well, that's not quite what I said, but, so what if I do like him? And just imagine, for one moment, that it could be more. And I  _ do _ have plenty of brass, thank you very much, so I would gods-damn make it work."

Tonks seemed to be literally turning green. A silly quirk of the metamorphmagus.

But Liz took pity and got to the point. "Now, don'tcha think maybe what's between you and Remus Lupin could be a little bit easier than what may or may not be happening between me and Severus Snape?"

"Huh. Wouldn't have thought of it that way. Probably because I never spared a thought for Snape as anyone's boyfriend." She pulled a face. "But you might be right. I'm stuck, though. You were probably right about making a grand gesture, too, but I haven't planned anything yet."

Liz grinned. "Now, that I can actually help with. First, something practical. Wizards are usually responsible for contraception in our culture here. Do you think you can find a way to get on The Potion? Preventing ovulation is a much more reliable contraception than a spermicidal spell."   


That flattering pink blush crept up Tonks' skin and hair. "Erm, I guess I didn't know that. But, sure, I think my mother has a trusted supplier."

"Perfect," said Liz, then pausing for a long drag on her glass. "Then, the grand romantic plan. Can you dance?"

Tonks laughed bitterly. "Not a bit. The way I morph is constantly messing with my sense of balance. If I don't concentrate, I'm always falling over my own feet."

Liz nodded slowly. "Well, Tonks, lucky for you, belly dancing is both easy and sexy. If you don't have a better idea by Monday, I know a dance studio where we can get some privacy. In fact, they might still be open for business right now, if you don't want to wait, but I am meeting up with someone else later. You should probably decide soon."

"I don't think there's much rush. I've been miserable this long already, and I'm probably too sloshed for even the easiest dance."

"That's fair. But also consider that maybe he's just as miserable as you. When you are clear-headed again later, do you think you'll remember all this?"

"Erm, maybe you should write me."

"Right, Tonks, look, I don't want to sound like I'm mothering or anything, but maybe I should take you home." 

Tonks pushed her stool back to stand, shaking her head and saying, "No, I'm --" but then fell flat on her arse.

"Tom?" Liz called. "Got any Sober-Up?" she asked, flashing a coin.

Purchase made, Liz hauled up Tonks by the elbow and took her over to the fireplace.

Tonks had a tiny, one-bedroom flat with the window shades drawn and clothing strewn everywhere. Liz helped her to bed, helped her drink the Sober-Up potion, and then sat at the small desk by the front door to write up the gist of their conversation.

Just when she was putting the quill and ink away, a knock came at the door, making Liz jump a mile.

Then the knock banged louder. "Dora, are you home?"

It was Lupin! Oh, to meddle or not to meddle? What's a girl to do?

She felt around the wards on the door, visualized the pull to unlock them, and cast  _ finite incantatem. _

Lupin was obviously surprised at the unexpected face greeting him, but Liz smiled warmly and pulled him by the sleeve over the threshold before he could object, and before she could forget the structure of the wards to put them back up.

"Er, hello, Miss Althea."

"It's Liz, Mister Lupin. Any friend of Tonks is a friend of mine."

"Good. I think she really needed a girl friend."

"She and me, both. And what about you, Mister Lupin? Do you have a friend you can rely on to help you understand how you feel and what you must do?"

"Remus."

When he did not answer the question, Liz fought to keep her expression neutral. "Remus, then. In any case, I should go. And maybe you should too. Tonks is pissed, and I put her to bed to sleep it off. I'm a touch tipsy myself, and I've made plenty of my own bad decisions lately. Just," she paused, unsure what to say. "Just, don't lose hope, and try not to make it more complicated than it has to be."

He was silent as she went to the fireplace. 

With one last look, she said, "Write me if you need anything. So long for now."


	10. Don't Believe In Anyone That You Can't Tame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter features quotes from "Our Sexuality", a real book by Robert Crooks and Karla Baur (ISBN-10 is 0495103268). It breaks my normal adherence to period since the copyright years in my tenth edition are 2005 and 2008, but I highly recommend it. Of all the college textbooks I kept, this one comes off the shelf more often than most. It's easy to read and packed FULL of great information. Snape reads to us from Chapter 8: Sexual Behaviors, which covers the range from celibacy to fantasy to masturbation to foreplay to oral and anal sex to positions for vaginal intercourse. The book also features an entire chapter on contraception that I wish I could go back in time and pass around at my junior high!

#  P1Ch10 Playlist

  * Title track: "Stupid Girl" by Garbage 1995
  * _"Shuffle Playlist Relax Instrumental." An ambling acoustic guitar melody floated in the air._
  * "I'd Do Anything For Love (But I Won't Do That)" by Meatloaf 1993



Chapter 10 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6W5fqNVkQZYGBE38FfMXXK?si=tWc3BJlPT0qrIXbXbqoJmg>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 10: Don't Believe In Anyone That You Can't Tame

Liz was not ready to face the Blumwands. They were so kind, and she had already mucked up the main excuse she used to stay with them instead of at Hogwarts. She wanted to do something for them, something to ingratiate herself further to them. A little research might be in order, so Liz found herself flooing back to Diagon Alley and popping into Flourish and Blotts before they closed.

Too many of Liz's loved ones were victims of serious personal violations. Perhaps studying up on the psychology of trauma would help.

Liz found very few books that seemed appropriate. She had noted in the past that most wizard cultures seemed to hold psychology in low regard, and here in Britain was no exception. There were a few too many cheesy self-help books with self-important celebrities like Lockhart on the cover, and not enough scientific theory from people actually trained in the field. Luckily Liz found a couple of suitable volumes: one thick tome on general child psychology and one slim booklet on coping with trauma. She paused briefly on the single book that seemed to be about sexology and then decided she may as well take that too. Her own collection in that aspect of psychology and medicine was pretty slim, with her handwritten notes from her studies, and several Internet printouts -- the muggles were apparently a lot farther along in the field than wizards. Maybe, Liz thought, she should write up her own damned book.

She entertained herself in the purchase line by thinking up cheesy self-help titles for her book, including  _ Sex with Liz _ ,  _ Getting Down to Get Back Up _ , and  _ You Can't Un-Fuck Someone _ . Her selections did not warrant a second glance from the man behind the counter, and Liz gratefully accepted the plain brown shopping bag.

Liz was becoming antsy with herself, wanting to avoid the Blumwands but not daring to miss Snape's arrival. When she finally went back, the family was waiting up, but before any of them could speak, Liz simply said, "Sorry," and then went to her room, locking and warding the door.

She stayed up reading the psych book until she couldn't any longer. She did learn from last time, though, and propped herself in the bed under the dreamcatcher. 

It was too uncomfortable to sleep fully clothed, though, and she changed into her favorite lounging clothes: black leggings, gray cami, and her short black silk dressing gown. She had no intention of emerging for anything or anyone until Snape arrived.

Finally, the click of the lock told her that someone was breaking her wards. She glanced at the clock and could hardly believe it was only 4 o'clock after this insane day she had.

Wand in hand, Liz marked her book with the other and lifted the silencing charm. But she did not have time to ask who was there before the door opened.

Severus Snape glared at her, and then looked over his shoulder to say, "She is fine."

Then Julia pushed past him into the room. Liz spared a moment to be proud of her for ignoring the potential male threat in the doorway, before being toppled into the bed with Julia on top of her, hugging her tightly. "We were so worried!"

"Er, sorry," Liz mumbled as she put her arms gently around the girl.

Snape stepped lightly into the room so that Marlena could peek in. "There is a lunch plate for you in the oven. You must be hungry by now."

"Thanks," she said, the thought of food making her tummy grumble.

Julia giggled and pulled back to let Liz up.

Liz ran a hand through her charmed hair and sized up the situation. The Blumwand women were clearly worried but now satisfied to see her, and Snape was silently seething by the vanity. "Er, ladies, could you give me a moment to thank Professor Snape for coming to the rescue?"

"Yes of course," said Marlena, throwing a look at Snape that Liz could not read. "Thank you again. Kom mit, Julia!"

Julia gave Liz a big smile. "I'll wait for you in the kitchen!" she announced before bounding out of the room.

Marlena sent her odd look to Liz this time before stepping back out of the doorway and shutting it softly behind her.

Snape hadn't moved.

Liz quickly closed the distance between them, and he flinched as she threw her arms around his neck. That flinch gave her pause, but she closed her eyes and found the warmth in her heart and said, "Thank you for coming. I know I was abrupt with them..." She opened her eyes again, and Snape's glare had let up. She continued, "Next time I need to be alone, I will at least write a note for them. I'm sorry if they called you over early just to open my door."

They stood that way for a moment, and then Snape lifted his hands to her waist. It was not a passionate touch, but not cold either. "Perhaps in return you could help me with something," he finally said.

"Anything you want."

The glare returned, though not quite as stern. "Your blind trust in me is astonishing."

Liz gave him a glare of her own. "Just because my trust is absolute, that does not mean it is blind." Then she smiled at him. "You have given me every reason to trust you, and none at all to mistrust you. Sometimes you can be a bastard, but you have been good to me in all the ways that count."

She could feel his pulse quicken where her arms touched his neck, and she felt her own breathing go shallow in response. Time seemed to slow down, and she quickly poked out the tip of her tongue to wet her lips.

And, finally, he kissed her.

It was brief. It was closed-mouthed and chaste. But it set Liz on fire, and it was all she could do to hold still and focus on not rubbing herself against him wantonly.

When it was over he removed his hands from Liz and reached back to pry her hands apart where they locked behind his neck. Liz was sure he could see her face falling, shattered by the forcible removal.

And then he said, "If you want to eat today, you had better get your arse down there and do it quickly. I'll wait right here."

So Liz wolfed down the baked noodle dish in record time, apologized to Julia, and quickly made her return to the bedroom. She swiftly entered, shut the door, and re-applied the wards before daring to turn and look at Snape.

And she was glad she did, because her mouth went dry and her mind went blank when she saw him, sprawled back on her bed, outer robe gone, a well-cut linen shirt unbuttoned at the top, and long legs in black trousers, crossed at the ankles. There was something different about his hair, his complexion, and fullness of his lips. She had suspected that he used some glamours, especially after he helped with her hair, and now she had evidence of several. As of this moment, they were gone, and she was seeing the real Severus Snape.

Delicious. 

He was reading in one of her new books. The general psych book and the trauma booklet were discarded on her nightstand, and he held up  _ Our Sexuality _ with a smirk and read aloud, "Erotic dreams can occur during sleep without a person's conscious direction. One study found that 93 percent of men and 86 percent of women reported having erotic dreams."

Liz licked her lips.

Snape looked up at her over the book. Poker-faced and deadpan-voiced, he said, "I like this book."

A rush of arousal shot straight to Liz's crotch, and she donned a smirk. "I have yet to read it, but if I remember right, that chapter looked very promising." Liz turned to the vanity and opened a drawer, as she searched for a particular item, she continued, "I am sure you are familiar with some of the theories about dream interpretation. I am not surprised that those percentages for erotic dreams are so high."

"Indeed," Snape said.

Liz heard him put the book down with the others and adjust himself on the bed, just as she snatched up the music box she was hunting. "Ah, here it is." She placed it on the vanity surface, tapped it with her wand, and said, _"_ _ Shuffle Playlist Relax Instrumental ." _

An ambling acoustic guitar melody floated in the air.

_ " Reduce volume 15 percent ." _

The box obeyed.

Liz beamed and turned around to face Snape, but he was lying on his front, adjusting the pillows so that his impressive nose would not be squashed into them. It was kind of cute. Liz nearly smacked herself for the thought, and turned her mind to more practical matters. "Perhaps before you get too comfortable you should remove your shirt."

He looked over his shoulder to glare at her, and she simply smirked at him.

"I assume you are collecting on my promise for a massage. It would be rather more enjoyable without the shirt." Liz put her hands on her hips and tapped her toe.

With a small snarl, Snape lifted himself to a sitting position and reached for the buttons. 

Liz herself felt suddenly unsure what to do with herself, but very sure that if she watched him undress that she would jump him. She busied herself replacing every item she had jostled in the vanity drawer.

When she finally turned back, Snape was folding his shirt and placing it over the stack of books on the nightstand.

He was thin, scrawny even. Her breath caught when she noticed a pair of jagged scars crossing his chest, and another, perfectly round one, near his collarbone. When he turned toward her, she also caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark on his arm.

Before she knew it she had sat down next to him, and she could see more marks, faded. He flinched when she reached out to the perfectly round blemish, and his hand grasped her wrist when she touched it.

"Don't," was all he said. His voice, normally liquid velvet, was hoarse. 

"This one is from a cigarette." Liz boldly stretched out her hand and traced the long scars with her middle and ring fingers of her right hand. "And these are from fingernails." Liz swallowed hard. "Some of these faded ones, well, they look rather like a whipping."

"Stop," he said, tightening his grip on her wrist. "Stop," he said again.

Liz looked into his eyes. She watched as he put a cap on the bubbling emotions.

Once he seemed to be back in control, he asked, "How do you know?"

"I've seen them before. Comes with the territory." She waggled the fingers of her healing hands, offering him a slight grin.

He nodded, and then he returned to arranging himself on the bed. Liz helped, gently fluffing one of the pillows just right, and then smoothing his hair out of his face. It was softer and cleaner than she expected. She supposed choosing unappealing glamours would certainly fit the isolated persona he needed for his double-agent roles.

His back looked rather like his front, with more signs of the faded whip marks, and one wide line, about 2 inches long, that looked just like an old stabbing.

Good gods, he had been stabbed in the back. Probably both literally and figuratively.

Liz knelt beside Snape, leaning over the bed with one foot still on the floor, and she began.

She was trying to take the more clinical approach, avoiding sensual, but she quickly determined the need for oil and conjured it. A few minutes later she required more leverage, and she pulled herself entirely on the bed, straddling his bottom to get just the right angle.

Snape's lean frame showed some decent definition in the back. She noted his bony shoulders but strong biceps. In addition to admiring his physical form, every moment touching him was a moment of flowing good will that eased both their souls. She hadn't lied, those years ago, when she told Suloos that she found joy in providing comfort. And this man here, well, he needed it more than anyone she had touched since.

Snape was finally loosening up, about fifteen minutes later, and she could feel him relax. She did not expect him to speak, and nearly jumped in surprise when he did:

"An impressive piece of magic, this music box."

Liz smiled brightly, even though he could not see it, and so she paused her ministrations, flattening her palms against him, not pressing, just feeling. "Thank you. This one is what I call my master music box. There are still some kinks, and it's a bitch to create playlists, but the play, pause, stop, shuffle, and next functions are all working better than I expected." She moved her hands again, not pressing enough for a massage, but just to touch, she slid them up either side of his spine, across and out to the edges of his shoulders, and down his fine biceps. "I've got a few bugs to work out before I make another." And before he could refuse, she continued, "All right, time to turn over."

He did not react, so in one slow but fluid motion, Liz withdrew her hands and stood to stretch her straining arms and shoulders, politely looking away. She had him in a rather intimate position, and if he wasn't comfortable then he'd probably bolt. She heard him shuffle on the bed, and was dismayed to see him sitting upright, legs crossed on the bed, when she turned back to look.

But the fire in his eyes rooted her on the spot.

He said slowly, softly, "My comfort is not in trade for yours."

Liz smiled and sat down next to him, but at a slight angle so she could look more directly at him without craning her neck. "You carry your stress throughout your back. I carry most of mine in my shoulders. It pleases me greatly to comfort you, but if you'd like to reciprocate..." she leaned forward and toward him so that her hair brushed her shoulders and fell in a curtain around her face.

And she found herself staring directly at the bulge of his erection through his trousers.

He moved rather swiftly, taking the view away from her and positioning himself behind her. In less than a minute he found a little knot in her right shoulder, and for better access he slid the strap of her shirt down her shoulder.

In response Liz reached for the bottom hem of her shirt, and moved to lift it. 

"No," came a throaty growl from behind her. He took his hands off her completely.

So Liz dropped her own hands down to her sides, and instead turned around so that they were both kneeling on their knees, facing one another on the little bed. "I --" Liz tried to begin, but Snape cut her off, leaning back on his heels.

"No, Persephone. It's not you. I cannot. I shouldn't even be here."

"Of course you should be here, Severus. After what we have been through, I rather like spending time with you. But we can do it on your terms. If you aren't ready to see me naked, then that's fine. I'll wait."

Suddenly Liz found herself crushed in his strong embrace, his breath heavy in her ear and both of them trembling with emotion. She bent her elbows, splaying her hands out on his bare back, and she wiggled her head like she was nodding agreement, to catch a better angle for her neck as she snuggled into his.

And then she sighed, awkward but content, in the arms of Severus Snape, the only man she could completely trust.

But then he pulled back with a pained look on his face. "Persephone, I have to ask what happened with Healer Kayson."

Of course, this moment had been too good to last. Of course, her one-night stand with Jason would be the scandal of the moment. Of course, this just had to come up while she had Snape exactly where she wanted him.

Liz drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "We were seen indulging an inappropriate relationship between a supervisor and subordinate. To save his emotionally-detached career, I allowed him to quietly terminate my internship."

"You got sacked for shagging the boss."

Liz glared. Snape was far too amused, and far too on-point with Liz's own phrasing.

"It wasn't so hard to find the only person in whom you confided. Enough of us are watching your post, as you well know, that you should not be surprised."

A sudden uneasy feeling gripped her. "What else did Tonks tell you?"

His amused expression suddenly turned dark. "I warn you now, Persephone, take care with who knows what about us. Tonks is relatively safe. She is an auror as well as a member of the Order, and her relationship with the werewolf will also make her less likely to judge us unfairly. However, I was not pleased that she was in a position to tease."

Liz almost laughed, but bit her tongue. If he was sensitive to teasing, that would not go over well. Instead, she matched his dark look and dared, "Remus Lupin may be a werewolf, but he is a human for 90 percent of his life and takes a precaution against the other 10 percent that I suspect  _ you _ brew for him." 

The surprised look on Snape's face was brief but confirming.

She barreled on, "It bothers me that you would dehumanize him instead of simply use his name, and I have not forgotten that it was  _ you _ who outed him so shamefully at Hogwarts three years ago. Now, you don't have to answer this, but  _ I must ask _ what makes you hate him so? I would rather avoid accidentally creating more problems in their relationship or ours, if you could just enlighten me."

Most of the clues that Snape was furious were tiny, but the fact that she saw them at all was a cause of deep concern. The slight change in his breathing pattern when she described his behavior as shameful, the small shift in his posture when she tried throwing his words back at him, and the steady sharpening of his glare through the entire scolding, all these things were nothing compared to the drawing of raw power that she felt in the room. One of her alarm wards was tripped and caused a tingle up her spine. He was so angry, and it was starting to scare her. She had definitely overstepped again.

Liz straightened her own posture and took a few deep, calming breaths. To her great relief, he began to breathe in time with her, and the alarm ward stopped tingling.

She remembered the last time she had upset him. The phrase  _ just as stupid as the others _ rang out in her head, and she couldn't quite decide if she preferred his nasty outbursts or this silent rage.

Finally, he said, "I will not give you the details. Suffice it to say, Lupin was in my year at Hogwarts, and he had no one to brew the Wolfsbane at that time."

It took Liz a moment to understand the implication, but once she did, she was instantly contrite for taking Snape to task, and simultaneously enraged at Dumbledore. "Do you mean to tell me that a fully-transformed werewolf was allowed on the school grounds for seven years? And not only that, but he was so carelessly unsupervised that other students had contact?"

He granted her only a slight nod, but the seething rage had dissipated. Liz had to fight to keep her own rage in check, but it wasn't rage toward Lupin. If this wasn't all so far in the past, she might have found an excuse to see Dumbledore and give him a piece of her mind.

With a much better understanding of the animosity between Snape and Lupin, Liz was ready to let it go and get back on topic. It wasn't going to be easy, but it needed to be done. She gulped. "So. About what happened with Jason."

She paused, but Snape did not interrupt to relieve her of the responsibility to follow up.

"He was pressured to sack me, but he wouldn't say exactly who was pressuring him. I suppose I should have had a better idea of the chain of command after a week, but honestly we were doing our jobs, not playing office politics. Healer Wells is his direct supervisor, but I've hardly said more than  _ hello _ to him. All the healers of St. Mungo's have a lot of autonomy and are expected to do their jobs with minimal direction."

Snape nodded thoughtfully. "We will not know the full effect of this until tomorrow. Tonight we have a mission with one master, and then tomorrow we debrief with the other. It is unclear which is responsible for relieving you of your internship at St. Mungo's. We know, of course, that the Headmaster was unhappy with the arrangement, but I would have expected to hear from him by now if he were behind it, and the subtle puppeteering of your ousting smacks more of the Dark Lord's methods."

"Any ideas for why or what next?"

"Nothing more than wild speculation. It might help to have a more detailed account from you."

"About the intimacy or the fallout?"

"Both."

In the face of this dispassionate request, Liz felt uneasy again. She closed her eyes and whispered, "Are you sure you want to know?"

"No!" he shouted, and she felt him rise from the bed to pace the cramped quarters. "Of course I don't want to hear about your sexual encounter with my rival, you stupid girl!"

Liz winced but opened her eyes. He had never shouted at her before. Called her stupid, yes, multiple times over the years, but shouting? No. He reserved that for the people he loathed. She was thankful that her room-wide privacy wards included a strong silencing charm. 

She fought her urge to cry, but failed when he stopped pacing, dropped to his knees, and whispered, "How could you?"

Her tears were not hysterical, and she quickly reigned them in. "It was a one-night stand, though I will admit it didn't necessarily start that way." She sniffed and wiped the wetness from her cheeks with her hand. "It is not a crime to explore my options in romantic partners, and you and I have made no promises of fidelity. Even without the interference, it was pretty obvious after one date that there was no committed future for Jason and me together." Then she put on her best raised-eyebrow. "He actually  _ likes _ being a healer. I  _ hate _ it, and I generally only do it from a sense of duty." She almost stopped there, but then added, "A decent payment for services also helps, but he suggested private practice and I just don't care for the notion of  _ invoicing _ when the point is to relieve suffering."

Snape had not moved. He was still on his knees on the floor, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I have to wonder, Severus, why you so willingly came here, laid on my bed, accepted my massage, even reciprocated, if you knew about Jason and felt so raw about it."

He flinched, but he recovered quickly, drew up to his full height, and gave Liz the clear impression of his classroom persona. "I am a selfish bastard, Miss Althea. The greasy git of the dungeons. Many of my colleagues at Hogwarts actually  _ like _ teaching, but I  _ hate _ it, and I am only coaching you on your tightrope-walk through this conflict from a sense of duty. I will take your comfort as payment for these services, and I will not be shy about  _ invoicing _ for my time."

Ouch. He came up with that response quickly and masterfully, to throw her own words back in her face. But on examination, it didn't hurt quite like she expected. Glamours gone, he simply wasn't the greasy git of the dungeons, and really he hadn't ever been that to her. The other day, what had she said to Flitwick? Ah yes, she wanted to do right by the one person who helped her the most. And just a few moments ago, Snape himself was adamant that she not suffer for his gain.

Today he was emotionally distancing himself, despite his physical actions becoming much closer. She spared a thought for Tonks, who was struggling to bridge a similar emotional distance with Remus, and Liz redoubled her determination to do right by Snape.

Mind made up, Liz rose from the bed to stand toe-to-toe with this dangerous man. His eyes betrayed a swift panic before growing hard and cold. She hoped her face looked as calm and compassionate as she felt. "I'm sorry I hurt you. If I had known you would come to me like this today, I would never have gone to bed with Jason Kayson. Please forgive me, not for my sake, but for your own peace. And, Severus, if not for me, if not for yourself, then for the fact that you have to face two powerful masters in the next 24 hours, and you need your wits about you."

She was relieved to see his eyes soften and the corner of his mouth turn upward. He said nothing, but he reached to touch her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek.

"The truth is," he said, starting with barely a whisper but increasing toward a normal conversation volume, "that I came here so willingly, laid on your bed, accepted your massage, and even reciprocated, all before addressing the issue of my rival, because I wanted to enjoy it all first, in case you really did have feelings for him."

She didn't know what to say, so she closed the small gap between them and held him tightly.

"The harder truth is," he rumbled low and slow, "that I really do need your more detailed account before we meet either the Dark Lord or the Headmaster."

Liz sighed and pulled back gently. They both sat on the bed again, not touching. As she recited the events in as cold and factual a manner as she could, he maintained a rigid posture and blank expression. When she finished, she covered her face with her hands, mortified.

"Persephone," he said slowly, "Your matter-of-fact descriptions are actually encouraging to me, and strangely intriguing. One part of me wants to ask about your undoubtedly numerous past lovers, but --"

She looked up and cut him off. "But the sane part of you will bite that back. Someday, when it is safe to unload all of my secrets on you, then maybe, just maybe we can have that talk. Right now you are the only lover I want or need. And I really am sorry."

A long pause stretched out between them, as they gazed into each other's eyes. Finally, Snape said, "In the last few days I've seen only glimpses of the aspiring rock star I used to know, and in her place is this jaded master of little-known healing arts. Your touch and voice exude benevolent magic, drawing out everyone around you. I am overwhelmed that you would choose to direct this magic toward me."

Whatever Liz could have said in return, it would not have lived up to the feelings welling inside her. She closed her eyes briefly and let the melody of the still-playing music box flow around them. When she opened her eyes, she found Snape looking at her intently, as if waiting for a reply.

So she kissed him.

It was slow and sweet, and this time she didn't stop herself from grinding against him. He groaned into her mouth, and she felt an electric bolt of arousal shoot down her spine to her center.

She had to break the kiss to come up for some air.

A second later she was alone on the bed. Snape had flung himself to his feet and was again pacing the length of the room. "I should leave now, until we are called."

Shaking herself out of the daze, Liz leaned back on the bed and considered the scene. He kept saying he should leave, and yet here he was. He had clearly had some horrible relationship in the past -- the cigarette burn and whip marks were very old, maybe even childhood abuse, but the fingernail scratches and stab wound were definitely more recent -- and maybe that had something to do with his reluctance. It finally occurred to Liz that maybe Snape had never had a loving intimate relationship. That would certainly explain the all-or-nothing intensity he was radiating today.

"Severus," she finally said.

He whipped around to face her, clearly still on edge. Shirtless and breathing heavy, he was acting a bit like a caged animal. Maybe he was feeling exactly like a caged animal.

So, Liz would need to tread lightly. "I said I will wait until you are ready, and I meant it."

He visibly calmed.

"And even when you are, I like to think we can be realistic about what we are getting into. I cannot promise fairy tale endings, Healer's Gift myth be damned."

He did not move an inch, but she saw him smirk at that. It gave her the courage to continue.

"But if you can set aside whatever it is that holds you back right now, then I would very much like for you to stay. We can shag, or we can nap, or both, or whatever you want in between. This conversation feels like it is going both everywhere and nowhere, and I just want to get comfortable with you, without fearing that you'll run off at the slightest provocation." She put on an expression that she hoped was serious but non-threatening. "I don't like treading on pins and needles in my own bed."

Snape's eyes were narrow and unreadable, but he nodded his head once.

Liz smiled brightly and shifted to sit up properly. "Well then, please excuse me a moment. I really need the loo. When I get back, maybe you can tell me about what you want."

He nodded again.

She left the room. In the privacy of the bathroom, Liz leaned back against the cool tiled wall and took a few deep, steadying breaths. She wasn't just treading pins and needles, she was dancing on them without shoes. Was he worth it?

Did it matter?

These questions went unanswered. He was waiting for her, back in her room, and she wasn't about to dawdle over this emotional rollercoaster, not after repeating to Snape what she had told Jason about enjoying the thrill.

When she got back to the bedroom, Snape was in much the same position as the first time she warded the door this evening. The music was stopped, and he had even cracked the book again. He had peeled back the covers to the foot of the bed, and of course he was shirtless now. 

Still delicious.

And he read aloud to her again. "People with an  _ altruistic _ love style (agape) are characterized by selflessness and a caring, compassionate desire to give to another without expectation of reciprocity. Such love is patient and never demanding or jealous."

As soon as Liz heard the word  _ agape _ pass his lip, she approached him, and by the time he finished with the word  _ jealous _ , she was pulling the book out of his hands. "Severus," she began, setting the book on the bedside table, "I don't care what any book says about love. I am interested in what you have to say on the topic, but only if that is what you decided you want for tonight." 

He gave her a measuring look, and then treated her with a broad smile.

She could really get used to those smiles, crooked teeth and all -- what a turn-on to know that she made him happy, even in some small way, melting away the perpetual scowl of the classroom and stress-borne sneers. She returned this delightful smile with her own grin and crawled onto the bed next to him. A moment later they were on their sides facing each other, both heads on a stacked pair of pillows, inches apart. "So," Liz ventured, "What did you decide?"

He was giving her a peculiar look, and instead of answering her question, posed one of his own. "Aren't you concerned about bending your glasses, or hurting your face?"

Liz shrugged her free shoulder. "No. I have a few decent charms applied that help me out. I did some research on them for Professor Flitwick's class last year, and Bardolf Sayer was kind enough to help with safety charms on the glass."

"I see. Why do you not simply heal your myopia?"

Liz gave him another half-shrug, carefully selecting her next words while maintaining a neutral expression. "I suppose I could try, but it's probably the same reason most healers don't do it. Eyes and brains are a little different than the rest of a person's organs, and I don't like messing with them if I can help it. And to be quite honest I feel a little vain about my glasses." Ah, that was worthy of a test by veritaserum! All of it true without really addressing the primary reason...

The frown was back, but not for the reason that Liz feared. Instead of more questions, Snape raised his hand to her face and ran his finger along the temple of her frames, before slipping under to touch her actual temple. "They make it difficult to touch your face."

Liz gave him a sheepish grin. "If that's what you want, then I can do without them at this range."

"I want..."

_ Finally! _ Liz held her breath.

"... to pretend." At Liz's apparently confused look, he continued, "I want you to imagine something. I don't think I can do it myself. Imagine this: You feel secure day-to-day. There is no Dark Lord, or even Headmaster Dumbledore, and there is most certainly no Harry Potter. What would you do?"

She couldn't interpret the look in his eyes, so Liz closed her own and imagined. And it didn't take long. "I would perform rock and roll. I would tour the country, the world, and I would entertain." Liz opened her eyes, hoping that her intensity showed in them. "I am an excellent healer, but I do not find the work rewarding, just exhausting. My mother and I were both compelled by ancient magic to pursue it in the first place. I would not have chosen it."

"We rarely choose what we get in this life."

"True enough." She closed her eyes and quoted the Eunuch of Lesvos, " _ You don't always get to choose your suffering, only how you react to it. Identify the elements, and swallow the pain to do what must be done. _ " Then she opened her eyes and grinned at him. "Then again, you asked me to imagine."

He kissed her then, briefly, breaking away before it could get too heated.

Liz offered another smile, trying to coax another out of him too. His face was soft and relaxed, but no smile appeared. "What about you? I don't believe you -- sorry -- that you can't imagine. You are far too brilliant to have not given this any thought. So what would you do?"

He was silent, and Liz closed her eyes again, snuggling down into the pillow, and reaching out with her free hand to hold his in between them.

"If you'd rather not say, then that's all right. Just relax and get some rest. I'm sure we both need it, and I am very glad you stayed."

She fell asleep, but so did he. Having recently gotten caught up on sleep, Liz woke first. 

Sleep is a vulnerable state for human beings. Sometimes insomnia and paranoia go hand in hand. She wondered if that was at least partly the case for Snape. 

She couldn't hold back a great jaw-stretching yawn, and that's when Snape jerked awake, eyes wild, wand suddenly in Liz's face.

She didn't move.

A second later, it may as well not have happened. Wand dismissed, eyes soft, Snape cleared his throat and rumbled, "My apologies."

"None needed," Liz whispered. She slowly reached up to adjust her glasses and then craned her neck to look at the clock. "It's past seven already."

"I expect we will be called after nine."

Liz smiled a content little smile, and then she reached for an embrace. She had hardly touched his arm when she felt his chill. Snape's shirtless state might be delicious to Liz's hungry eyes, but he was cold, and the sheets and blankets were still down at their feet. "Stay put," she whispered, sliding her warm hand down the full length of his arm (she might have touched his Dark Mark were it not pressed against his side), before drawing up the cozy top blanket. Then she curled up nice and close, her left arm trapped underneath, her head tucked under his chin, and her right hand leisurely caressing him under the pretense of warming him up.

Later when thinking about it, she would swear she heard him sigh in pleasure.

Without looking at him, tucked in his embrace, she asked softly, "What can you tell me about tonight's mission?"

"I was wondering how long you would wait to ask."

"Given the short notice on our first mission together, I rather expected that I'm supposed to be surprised. Life rarely offers revision time." She pulled back just enough to look him in the eye. "That night, we came through reasonably well with only seconds to prepare. Since then I've improved my emergency bag and keep it with me at all times. Is there anything more I should do while I've got two hours to spare?"

She hoped the look on his face was approval, and not groggy surprise or worse. He said, "I am surprised that you would describe it as  _ reasonably well _ _,_ considering the outcome for your parents."

Liz's heart lurched.

He quickly got them back on task, "You'll need to select practical clothing for healing tasks. I have already told the Blumwands that they should not wait up for us tonight. We will apparate again to Malfoy Manor, and the Dark Lord wishes to have you speak with two of his Death Eaters specifically. Then you will be on duty, as it were, while the rest of us go into battle."

Liz blinked. "Battle?" Her throat worked compulsively, as there were far too many upsets this week, to also consider that Snape might not be safe tonight.

Instead of the sharp rebuke she expected, Snape's expression softened, and he said, "Yes, Persephone."

She felt her stomach drop, but she nodded and squeezed him tightly.

"You may want to consider another bite to eat, although I would suggest a small portion if you are already feeling a bit sickly."

Liz thought it over. Snape was gazing at her calmly, no hint of his sneer or even a raised brow. With this open expression and canceled glamours, Liz was getting rather distracted by just looking at him, and she had to give herself a mental shake to reclaim her focus. "Um, maybe. The meal earlier was fine. Maybe we can have tea in a little while."

He nodded once to indicate his approval.

She ran her free hand over his back, from top to bottom, as far as she could reach from this position at his front. "Your chill is gone, and I am getting rather warm myself." She pushed the blanket down to their hips and then very gently pushed his shoulder until he laid all the way back.

Liz felt him tense for just a second, before taking a controlled deep breath and closing his eyes. Without removing her hand from his shoulder, Liz propped herself on her other arm and then slid the hand upward, tracing his throat, caressing his chin, and drawing her thumb over those gorgeous lips.

He opened his eyes and whispered, "What are you doing?"

"Memorizing," she said simply. She knew perfectly well that this was a view she may never get again, and especially once school was back in session. She almost grimaced at the very thought and was definitely not going to voice it. Instead, she grinned, and began reciting.

_ And some days it don't come easy  
_ _ And some days it don't come hard  
_ _ Some days it don't come at all  
_ _ And these are the days that never end _

_ And some nights you're breathing fire  
_ _ And some nights you're carved in ice  
_ _ Some nights you're like nothing I've ever  
_ _ Seen before, or will again _

She stopped the song, suddenly aware that she wasn't holding back the Siren's call, and the rest of the song's content might be a little too much of a declaration. She smiled sadly and drew herself away, intending to head to the closet to change. 

If he was disappointed in her withdrawal, he did not show it. Instead, he surprised her with just one word. "Meatloaf?"

"Written by Jim Steinman," she confirmed. Liz couldn't be happier that he knew this song, and also more terrified that he would find it too sentimental. But she would never, not in a hundred lifetimes, have predicted that he would not only sing, but also that he would take Lorraine Crosby's role in the duet...

_ Will you hold me sacred; Will you hold me tight  
_ _ Will you colorize my life; I'm so sick of black and white!  
_ _ Can you make it all a little less old? _

Heart swelling, Liz prepared the full force of the Siren's Song.

_ I can do that!  
_ _ Oh yeah, I can do that! _

Next Severus proved he knew the full album version of the song, and Liz was too awestruck to wonder who inspired him to memorize it, or think ahead far enough to realize how it would end.

_ Will you make me some magic with your own two hands?  
_ _ Can you build an Emerald city with these grains of sand?  
_ _ Can you give me something I can take home? _

It didn't matter, anyway. She had to reply.

_ I can do that  
_ _ Oh, oh yeah, I can do that _

Liz thought she would get the next sexy verse, but he skipped ahead to the part that she vaguely knew was coming and yet wished wasn't.

_ After a while you'll forget everything  
_ _ Just a brief interlude in a midsummer night's fling  
_ _ And you'll see that it's time to move on _

Voice cracking and Siren's call extinguished, Liz replied.

_ I won't do that  
_ _ I won't do that _

But he persisted.

_ I know the territory - I've been around  
_ _ It'll all turn to dust and we'll all fall down  
_ _ Sooner or later you'll be screwing around _

Tears started leaking. She couldn't finish. Although she desperately wanted to, she couldn't make these declarations about what she would and wouldn't do for love. After all...

"Ah, yes, Miss Althea, you already did."

The coldness was brutal. Standing alone in the middle of the room, wearing her skimpy pyjamas, Liz shivered and buried her face in her hands. Her shame was so thick, and the betrayal was so raw in his voice. Maybe she could back up the song a little bit.

_ But I'll never stop dreaming of you  
_ _ every night of my life  
_ _ No way  
_ __...No, I won't do that

When she dared to look back up at him, she rather wished she hadn't. He was furious again. He spat, "Don't bewitch me, girl."

Ah, but she was prepared for this. "If you know anything about Siren's Song then you know that it can only come from the heart. My song might be enchanted, but it only ever speaks to the same feelings already present in the listener."

The softening of his expression suggested that maybe Snape  _ hadn't _ known.

A silence stretched out between them, and Liz tipped her chin up. "I rather thought we'd been through and done with the mistake I made with Jason. Bringing it up again is suitably cruel, my dear, but you won't drive me off with this hot-and-cold routine." She nearly added something saucy about  _ liking _ hot-and-cold intimate play, but she suspected that would send him running for the hills.

A small smirk graced his face. "No, I suppose you are made of stronger stuff than that." He swept over to her and drew her into his embrace once again. "And I am selfish enough to accept all of your glorious enchantments for my own benefit."

Liz only allowed herself to relax for a moment before pulling away. "I really should get dressed, as you suggested earlier. Once I feel ready to go at a moment's notice, then we can plan the order in which you care to sample my enchantments." She offered a cheeky grin before disappearing into the closet. She chose a simple, pale green dress, and matching robes over top, with her black cloak and boots completing the outfit. It was all tailored just for her, but very plain and practical, much like the blue version she had worn for final duty hours at St. Mungo's that morning.

When she turned around, Snape was also fully clothed again. He gave her a clinical but approving once-over. "That will do," he said.

Pleased at the approval, Liz then fished the emergency bag out from where she had stowed it under the bed and placed it front-and-center on the vanity. "Lippy?" she called.

When the elf appeared, she stole a pointed glance at the rumpled bed.

"Tea, please," Liz requested. "Not a full supper. It may be a long night, but we shouldn't have anything too heavy."

A moment later Liz and Snape were alone again with a tray of sandwiches and a pot of tea. They ate in silence, Liz nibbling delicately to savor the crusty texture of the bread, smooth creaminess of the cheese, and lingering smokiness of the deli-sliced poultry. Lippy's sandwiches were always just the right sustenance for upcoming work, and each detail in their construction tickled Liz's hedonist side.

It was just before nine when Snape grimaced at his teacup and announced the need to depart.

She picked up her emergency bag. "I'm ready," she said, though she was certainly not.


	11. Behind the Green Sheet of Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot lemonade ahead. You are in waaaaaaaay too deep to be squicked by this now, but, I suppose I should still provide this content warning about a teacher and his student humping. Also, boatloads of House Points to anyone who catches the Aqua Teen Hunger Force reference, despite it being much later in the timeline than Liz would have been able to watch it for this scene :)

# P1Ch11 Playlist

  * Title track: "Low" by Cracker 1993
  * "Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset" by Modest Mouse 1996
  * _It was a slow chant, and most healers would not bother with making it sound like song._
  * "Express Yourself" by Madonna 1989
  * "Custom Concern" by Modest Mouse 1996



Chapter 11 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5FjlUn2iqr6WJoKegbgg4Q?si=YGLMRNI2TaqhjFQuVxNoKw>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

# Chapter 11: Behind the Green Sheet of Glass

They arrived at Malfoy Manor the same way they had last time, and when Narcissa Malfoy greeted them, it was with a somber expression and a serious purpose.

And yet, she was warm enough. "Severus," she said, "and Healer Althea, please come quickly." And with no delay they were brought to the Pink Parlor. The room was decorated tastefully in pale pinks and grays, with a fire roaring at the hearth and the furniture covered in sumptuous silk cushions and blankets.

No one else was there, and Narcissa quickly turned to Snape. "Severus, you are expected in the Drawing Room."

No words, just a small nod to Narcissa and a lingering look at Liz, and Snape was gone.

"So," Liz ventured, placing her bag gently on the low coffee table in the middle of the room. "This room is rather extravagant for battlefield triage, isn't it?"

Narcissa tilted her nose up and gave an impatient sniff. "I may not be a True Healer, or even a certified Healer, but I am a capable medi-witch, and my patients deserve the best comfort I can provide."

Liz was taken aback. She thought Narcissa Malfoy's task was to be keeping an eye on Liz, but maybe she was rather there as an assistant. Liz grinned. Must be hard for her to be subordinate to some young kitten like Liz, especially in her own home, and Liz suddenly felt like she may be a kindred spirit, if the comfort of her patients took precedence over her fine things. "I am sorry, Mistress Malfoy. I did not mean to offend. On the contrary, I think we are going to get on just fine."

And the two of them got right down to business, planning their night, as best they could. It wasn't long before they both insisted on eschewing their pureblood titles in favor of using familiar names, if only for the speed of their communication. They took stock of their supplies, including how many beds they could accommodate in the Pink Parlor, and though Cissy was clearly letting Liz lead, she was not holding back on advice when it came to these patients that Cissy already knew.

Nearly an hour later, she was wrapping up her description of all the men she knew would be out tonight: "And then there's Aaron Goyle. If he is not more seriously injured, he'll come later, after he's sure all his fellows will be all right, and ask for a painkiller." She hesitated, then continued, "He's sweet like that about his dark brothers, but he's quite the klutz, and he will no doubt bruise himself on a dismount from his broom or some such acrobatics."

Liz saw the tight lines drawn on the beautiful woman's perfect face. Seemed more like maybe this sweetheart Goyle really needed the painkiller to numb the memory of the fight. She wondered if Cissy self-medicated. Liz probably would. But for this moment, she could only nod.

Cissy visibly shook herself. The lines were gone. She said, "Finally, Lizzy, when we are cleaning up and preparing to send the men home, the Dark Lord himself will come here to provide moral support for his troops. He will talk to all of them, one by one, even if they are critically hurt. He will speak directly in their minds if he must, but he always makes sure to tell everyone how important it was that they fought their best. He talks up the rewards of long-term victory, even if the battle does not go well. There was one time that I tried to insist on letting my patient rest, and the response was a threat that I'd be the one needing bed rest if I did not let him be."

Liz needed a moment to process what Cissy had just said. If the Dark Lord didn't scare the shit out of her, she might have been inspired by his dedication to his fighters. Liz tried to imagine believing in the cause, giving her all in a bloody fight, getting injured, and then having a personal visit from the Dark Lord, all but thanking her for her service. In that moment, Liz empathized with the people she was about to treat, and her determination renewed. 

Then there was a knock on the open parlor door, and two people came through it. Liz recognized Bellatrix Lestrange from the Daily Prophet story of the Azkaban breakout. Liz also recognized some of the features of the tall man's face, so it must be her Avery relation. 

He spoke first, "Mistress Malfoy, Healer Althea. I believe your first patient tonight is Bella."

Cissy pursed her lips. "Yes, thank you. Bella, dear, are you ready to tell Healer Althea what has happened to you?"

Bellatrix spoke in a scathing tone, "The only problem is that I was left behind on this mission."

Liz started, as this was definitely the raspy-voiced woman who had been quick to volunteer her wand to torture Snape. Fortunately, Cissy stepped closer and saved Liz from blurting something stupid. "Now Bella," she said, matter-of-factly, "Would you prefer that Ash and I tell her?"

A defiant glare was met with two bland expressions and Liz's raised eyebrow. Finally, Bellatrix said, "I was separated from my master for too long. I spent 13 years in Azkaban with nothing to feel but the absence of him."

Liz was confused. She looked to Cissy and Ash, wondering if they could elaborate. Quite a few Death Eaters had been incarcerated for that period, but it seemed that maybe Bellatrix had been reacting a little differently, or something especially brutal happened to her in that prison.

Ash grew impatient with the silence, and he said, "In 1969, when the Dark Lord wished to experiment with a new mark, Bella was the first volunteer, straight out of school."

This time Liz was honestly surprised. He'd been using the Dark Mark much longer than that, if she recalled her recent history correctly.

Cissy continued, "The Dark Mark binds us to our master effectively, but it has a side effect of paranoia. The Sapphic Mark was meant to bind us to our master with a sense of security and loyalty, which is reflected in the placement of the mark over the heart. Go on, Bella. Show her."

Bella glared one last time but complied. She pointed her wand at herself, and tore away the modesty fabric above the corset in her dress robes. Her ample cleavage was nearly spilling out over the top of the corset, and just over her heart, Liz could see the mark. She was an outline of a nude woman, but the figure was twisted away, showing her bare arse and covering her breasts with her crossed arms.

Liz blinked a few times, trying hard not to think about the mark on her own breast as she breathed deep as she remembered what she had learned of the Sapphic Mark in Greece. She finally said aloud, "The Dark Lord must have modified the ceremony, changing the spell to a curse and this mark of pure love into a mark of slavery. I've heard of something similar before, but it's dangerous. Sappho, the lady," she nodded to Bella's breast, "is a symbol of free love, and twisting her into submission can cause unexpected results..."

She trailed off then, in her speech and in her wandering thoughts. Liz wondered if her own experience with the Sapphic Mark was truly the atypical one. Around the world, there were many types of magical brands that bind people together -- the Dark Lord was not unique in history as a leader who demanded magical influence on the very bodies of his followers -- and all of them were considered dark magic. All except one.

The Sapphic Mark was considered a grey area, as its intent was pure light, but of course intent is a weak component of a spell. Any second-year Charms student knows that Hogwarts does not teach Dark Arts because to perform Dark Arts you must breed ill intent. Liz felt a slight stab in her heart, wishing that she could talk to Suloos. He was the one who taught her about binding marks, talking her through all the implications of any permanent marks (including her tattoos), and he would probably have a better idea of how to help Mistress Lestrange. Thinking about Suloos triggered another thought of Liz's mother, and, with a start, Liz suddenly realized that Sappho herself had probably worshipped Demeter and Persephone. This all fit right in with the crazy turn of style in Sila's diary.

Everyone was silent as they waited for Liz to snap out of it. When she did, she blushed, but quickly got herself under control. "Mistress Lestrange, I will consult with a very discreet expert I know and trust, who knows far more about binding marks, including this one. For now, maybe you could tell me a little more about your symptoms, and we can schedule another session in a week or two."

Bellatrix seemed rather pleased to have this meeting over soon. She briefly and coldly accounted her symptoms in a deadpan voice but with a fury in her eyes. She recited that her emotional response to losing the Dark Lord and going to prison after the first war was overwhelming, and the stress affected her physically with sudden adrenaline rushes and incredible bloodlust. When the Dark Lord returned, she thought it would be better, but her bloodlust was merely joined by a sensual lust for the man himself, and both Bellatrix and the Dark Lord were growing tired of her obsession to be intimate with him. 

Liz fought not to grin. First the Dark Lord provides moral support to his troops. Then he is capable of seeking Liz's help for one of his most dedicated followers. Who would have thought? Maybe the Dark Lord was just a man after all. Liz schooled her expression, marveling at the control Bellatrix showed. "Well, as I said I would like to contact my old mentor on the subject, and it may take some time to find him and decide how to proceed. I would like to meet with you again in exactly two weeks to discuss your options for treatment."

Bellatrix pressed her lips together, and Liz thought that she must be biting her tongue. Bellatrix nodded once, glared at Cissy and Ash, and swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

Liz was already turned to speak with Cissy. "May we use this room again at that time? Or is there perhaps a location where she will feel more comfortable?"

Cissy gave Liz an appraising look. "I will have Severus fetch you in exactly two week's time. Excuse me, and I will go on a walk with my sister, give her time to calm down and choose any room in the Manor for her treatment."

Liz gave her a weak smile. Sisters! 

"Take your time," Ash said. "I'll come for you if the first... er, _next_ patient arrives before you return."

And with that, Liz was left alone with Ash Avery. "Are you my mother's brother?" she blurted.

Ash gave her an amused look. "Yes. My name is Ashley Ares Avery, and Siladora is six years my senior. You can call me Ash, or even Uncle Ash if you like. I got to Hogwarts three years after Lucius Malfoy, but we Averys have been friends of sorts with the Malfoys a long time. But enough about me. We need to talk about Sila."

Liz tilted her head slightly, considering what he told her. Liz was consistently amazed tonight. Sila had brought up Liz to fear the Dark Lord and only study dark magic at a distance. Now she was here in the thick of things, healing those people closest to the Dark Lord, and preparing to study binding magic.

She must have gone pale thinking over the implications, because Ash looked concerned. "Kiddo, er, can I call you Kiddo?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Anyway, I'm sorry if thinking about your mother upsets you, but you really ought to know this."

Liz could only nod.

"I don't know if Sila ever took the Dark Mark, as I've only seen her twice since she left home, but she was most certainly influenced by our father, one of the very first Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's most trusted servants. When we were your age, she admired him, actually, for the careful role he played, maintaining popularity as a politician at the Ministry of Magic while rising in his own power at the Dark Lord's side.

"But when dad died, Sila shut us all out. Right out of school, she went and married a mudblood, tainting our line. Not --" he said, hastily "-- that I consider you a taint, Kiddo. I've had many years to come to terms with what Sila did, and you are not to blame."

"But," Liz was unsure she wanted a response, but she said it anyway: "I was told you all disowned her."

A look of pure pity on her uncle's face made Liz drop her eyes to the floor, threatening to tear up. He said, "I'm sorry, but that's the wrong way around. She was the one who shunned us. She thought she was protecting herself, and then protecting you, but I was there during the attack on the Raven Witch, and that was when I found out she'd been in contact with the Dark Lord since his return two years ago."

Liz inhaled one shaky breath, not sure what to shout and cry about first, so Ash spoke quickly, "You need to keep your head, Kiddo. Let's change the subject. I heard that you are no longer with St. Mungo's."

She was intensely grateful for the change of topic. She was about to lose it there, and she didn't want to. He had been kind enough to separate his displeasure of Sila from his feelings about Liz, and she could do no less than the same. On the other hand... "That just happened, and I have only told two people about it. How did you know?"

He had the decency to look guilty. "There was more than one party interested in bringing you closer to Hogwarts. You should be receiving, over the next few days, a job offer in or near Hogsmeade. You should take it."

Tilting her head to the side, examining his face for a betrayal of feeling, Liz bit her own lip. So Jason Kayson really did have someone (at least one someone) pressuring him. She wondered how serious Jason had been about opening a private practice in Hogsmeade.

"Sila tossed you into the deep end, didn't she? Take the job. It's the safest option."

Liz was confused for a moment -- did she say that last bit out loud? No, she was only thinking about Jason, and Ash had not actually told her where the mystery job offer would come from. So she just nodded. She was afraid that if she opened her mouth to speak, she would say something that she would later regret. But she was thinking very seriously about approaching Dumbledore, hat in hand, and asking to stay at Hogwarts after all. Even if Hogsmeade really was the safest, she would certainly feel safer at the castle.

"In the meantime, tell me about music. It may help you pass the time until you are needed. I saw your performance at The Raven Witch. I was in disguise of course, to avoid Sila, but I was impressed. You have a gift, my niece, and I could happily sit here all night, listening to you and hoping that you will not be required after all."

Liz smiled a genuine little smile. He was right of course, that talking music would help her stay calm. They started with Liz's vocal inspirations, including healing songs and rock and roll artists like Robert Plant, Brad Delp, and a new favorite, Isaac Brock of Modest Mouse. Liz conjured herself a set of drumsticks and tapped a beat on the metal clasp of her emergency bag, singing a few of her favorite lines from the Modest Mouse album that she had just gotten in April. 

_From "Talking Shit About a Pretty Sunset" by Modest Mouse_

_And I'm trying to understand myself and pinpoint who I am  
_ _When I finally get it figured out, I've changed the whole damn plan_

 _Oh, noose  
_ _Tied myself in, tied myself too tight  
_ _Oh, noose  
_ _Tied myself in, tied myself too tight_

 _Talkin shit about a pretty sunset,  
_ _Blanketed opinions that I'll probably regret soon.  
_ _My mind changes so much I can't even trust it,  
_ _My mind changed me so much I can't even trust myself._

"Wow," Ash said, some twenty minutes later when Liz's singing was interrupted by Cissy's return. "It's true. I wondered, that night at The Raven Witch. Now I'm sure. You really do sing the Siren's Song."

Liz grinned sheepishly. "Everyone is capable of Siren's song. It takes some training to order your mind and heart sufficiently, that you can pour out the emotions without losing control to them." She shrugged. "It also helps considerably when a healing song is required."

"Yes," said Cissy, "I imagine it's very helpful to draw people to you. Healing serious magical maladies often requires an emotional attachment."

"Indeed, it's true that the Siren's song forms some kind of emotional link. But it is much more subtle than some would have you believe. It's not just a dark love spell. Or rather, it doesn't have to be. Siren's Song is simply an expression of emotion. If I had trained my mind and heart to cultivate, for example, fear or hatred, then my Song would reflect that and draw out the same in others."

And with that statement, they were interrupted by the first casualty. 

One Death Eater, still in his mask, carried in another, who may as well have been wearing a mask, his face was so disfigured by some curse. A third, a woman, trailed behind. As they brought the wounded man to a sofa, the masked one said, "The traitor could still cast a mean Blood Boils Hex. We managed to stop it from spreading but Carrow here will need his face fixed."

Cissy and the silent woman started stripping the clothes off the patient, "Thank you, Aaron."

Liz was examining her supply of topical salves while Goyle continued, "Travers should come limping in here shortly, after stepping on a Ward Mine, and the rest of us fared all right. Amycus got the worst of it, but he got Alecto here close enough to the traitor to finish him off."

Having never treated a Blood Boils Hex, Liz had to take a moment to carefully consider her options. Finally choosing an ointment to try first, Liz peeled off the container's lid as she said, "Thank you, Mister Goyle. If you'd like to take a seat, you are welcome to rest here. We should have plenty of room with only two serious injuries."

Cissy had already undressed drained the boils, which luckily didn't go down past his chest, and Liz carefully applied a small dollop of the salve to the back of his neck. Cissy and Liz watched carefully as the angry red skin started to fade, and with no adverse reaction, Liz confidently applied more of the salve until Carrow's face was covered and mending. She was going to use up the whole jar, and made a mental note to brew more tomorrow.

While Liz worked down Carrow's neck and shoulders, Alecto watched, and Cissy went to the door. Snape had arrived, supporting another man. He must have been Travers, because he said, "I stepped on a trap and was flung a good hundred meters. I -- ow!" Liz glaced up briefly to see Snape and Cissy hauling Travers onto a sofa.

Liz focused on her work, but she was still listening when Snape scoffed. "The fool was thrown all of _ten_ meters into a fence post and it tore his leg open. The bone is broken, and the whole wound needs to be cleaned and checked for additional damage. I stopped him from bleeding out, but it was too dangerous to heal him on site. As soon as the mission was complete I roused him to bring him here."

By now Liz was finished with her Blood Boils Hex victim, and she carefully put away her empty jar. When she finally sidled up in between Snape and Cissy, they had already removed his trousers, and Cissy was carefully but thoroughly cleaning the wound. Travers appeared to have passed out.

Liz flashed a weak smile at Snape, then produced her wand to run diagnostic spells. She quickly determined him to be stable enough (despite the blood loss) to focus on the leg. "He will be fine," she said, lowering her wand to perform more specific diagnostics. "We need to set the bone without pinching all the torn muscle. Then heal the bone, then the torn ligament, then the muscle and finally close up the skin. Work it from the inside out." She looked at Snape again. "Will you please select a painkiller from my bag over there? Something we can tip down his throat in case he regains consciousness. I'd rather not knock him out again, but this will hurt like eight bitches on a bitch boat."

One raised eyebrow later, Snape did as he was told, and Cissy stepped aside, wound all cleaned up, so that Lizzy could do the honors. She stuck her wand right into the gaping leg, gently nudging the muscles out of the way and setting the bone in place. A quick " _episky_ " mended the relatively clean break, and then Liz hesitated. Repairing torn flesh did not have one quick, easy spell like a clean bone break did. She turned to Cissy. Even though she knew the answer, she had to ask, "I don't suppose your supplies contained Essence of Dittany?" 

When Cissy shook her head, Liz nodded and took a deep breath. She did not know Mr. Travers, but it would not be the first time she sang a healing song for a stranger. She gathered up all the pity in her heart, put her bare hand over the half-healed wound, closed her eyes, and sang.

It was a slow chant, and most healers would not bother with making it sound like song. But then again most healers needed to focus the power of it through a wand. She could feel the muscle and then the skin knitting under her hand, and she poured out into the song her joy that it was working.

She heard the door open and shut again, but she did not stop until she felt solid, dry skin under her hand. When she opened her eyes, she was pleased with her work, and smiled gently at the tiny scar that would be left behind. It looked like a fence post with a tuft of grass growing at the bottom.

"Excsssellent work, Healer Althea," hissed a voice that Liz would recognize anywhere. But the Dark Lord startled her, and she spun around, nearly tripping on her own feet.

Alecto Carrow, Cissy Malfoy, Snape, Goyle, and Avery had all dropped to one knee, eyes at the Dark Lord's feet, so Liz did the same. "Thank you," she whispered.

"I have already congratulated the othersss. The traitor is dead. Amycusss gave Alecto the opening to deliver the final curse; how faresss he?"

A moment passed, and Liz realized she was probably meant to answer. "Mister Carrow is recovering. I should check his progress."

"Very well. Everyone return to your duties. When you have finished, consider yourselves dismisssssed."

A chorus of "Yes, My Lord," went up all around, and Liz nodded once, slowly.

The Dark Lord approached Travers and began to revive him. Cissy pulled Aaron Goyle to his feet and led him over to the potion supplies. Avery caught Liz's eye, smiled, and bowed slightly before taking his leave. Snape took Liz by the arm and marched her over to the Carrows.

The Dark Lord was murmuring quietly to Travers, and Liz would have liked very much to eavesdrop, but she did have a task to do. It was hard to hear over Cissy and Goyle's quiet conversation, anyway. As Liz examined her patient, who was making excellent progress, Snape added his voice to the low sounds in the room.

"I have already begun a fresh distillation of dittany at Hogwarts. As soon as it is ready, I will have it sent to you. Do you require any other supplies?"

Liz nodded and turned to look Snape in the eye while she made her request. "For Mister Carrow, here, I used the last of a skin slave that I brewed from a recipe in our school textbook."

"I'm sure I know the one. I will make a fresh batch, as that will be useful at Hogwarts as well, and even when my students do make an effective batch, it is not until springtime in the seventh-year curriculum. So, for the next time you make it yourself, remember that even though the book suggests crushing whole Cat's Claw thorns, it is the oil of the plant which assists the immune response, so any part of the young plant will do. Just be sure not to leave any of that precious oil behind in your mortar."

Liz broke into a genuine grin. Potions was never her best subject, but practical applications were highly motivating, and she could listen to that voice give potions lectures forever.

Before either of them could say another word, the door clicked closed behind Goyle, and Cissy came over to say, "It looks like Amycus will be just fine. Why don't you two stop by the celebration in the Drawing Room? You've both earned a drink for a mission completed. Travers will be walking out on his own in just a moment, and Alecto will take Amycus home. I will call a house elf to help me finish cleaning up here."

Liz looked to Snape, and missed Cissy's knowing look at the gesture.

"I'm afraid we must be off," said Snape, "as soon as we are able, to give our _other_ report."

"Oh, very well, Severus. I will write you later about making a social call. Perhaps both of you could visit?" She turned toward Liz. "My son could certainly use the company of someone closer to his age."

Liz racked her brain. Draco. That was right. A spoiled brat, if she remembered that right, too. She forced a polite smile. "I'd love to visit you here again under less... trying circumstances."

"Then it's settled! I'll send an owl tomorrow to pick a date." Cissy kissed Liz on the cheek, and then Snape, and then turned back to her cleanup tasks. 

Snape glanced at Liz, and then the door, as if to say, "after you" and Liz moved her feet.

He took her by the arm and nearly hauled her out of the room, nonverbally summoning her supply bag after them. Apparently she was not to say goodbye to the Dark Lord, as they made a swift exit. Once outside the Manor's main door, cloaked and ready to go, Liz tugged them to a stop. 

She took a moment to look around the beautifully manicured lawn of the manor, breathing in the fresh air of the late summer night. The wisteria vine was climbing a low rail along the adjacent garden path, and she could tell there was another night bloom that smelled of freesia. A glance at the sky showed twinkling stars and a sliver of a crescent moon. What she wanted most at that moment was to lie down on that perfect turf, breathe the perfect floral air, and look at the perfect clear sky, and maybe invite Snape to join her.

Anxious but in control of her escape fantasies, Liz gathered her wits and asked, "To Hogwarts?"

He fixed her with an icy look. "Can you apparate yourself?"

Liz was too tired and overwhelmed to care that he was being a bit of a jerk. "Probably not a good idea. I’m rather exhausted, now that the adrenaline is wearing off."

He nodded quickly and gripped her arm, and when they popped to their next location, it was definitely not the gates of Hogwarts.

Liz was getting used to side-along apparition with Snape, but they landed behind a tree alongside a street in the pouring rain. She was rather put out at this turn of events, as it had been a beautiful evening outside at Malfoy Manor. Liz allowed Snape to cast a discreet water-wicking charm over her head, then followed him as he ran down the narrow alley and flicked his wand at the front door of the little house at the end of the lane. He was fast, and she was a bit out of breath when she caught up to him. Snape quickly disengaged the wards to let her through, cast a charm to light the lamps, and left her to examine the room as he swiftly re-applied the wards.

Liz only spared a moment to glance at the overflowing bookshelves of the modest sitting room, quickly taking a seat on the threadbare sofa and pulling the smoking case from her bag. 

When Snape turned back to her, she was already breaking up weed to smoke. She smiled up at him and asked, "Your home?" At his nod, she refocused on her green task, but she said, "I am so glad you brought me here instead of going straight to the castle. Come sit and smoke with me."

He hesitated, apparently recognizing the herb. "I prefer to be clear-headed when we see the Headmaster."

"Ha. Bringing me here suggests that he can wait as long this takes, and I want to talk to you first." Liz removed a glass pipe and gently handed it to Snape for inspection. "This is Amalaki," she explained, "A creation of Bardolf Sayer." It was a beautiful piece, in the shape of a phoenix. The head of the creature was sunken in for the bowl, a carb off to the side. The body was a large chamber, and the tail feathers stuck up and back, clearly the mouthpiece of the pipe.

"First," Liz began, "Who is -- excuse me, _was_ \-- the traitor?"

Finally, Snape sat down next to Liz on the sofa and gently placed the glass piece on the coffee table next to where she was prepping their herb. "Karkaroff."

Liz grimaced. If the Headmaster of Durmstrang didn't have the talent and resources to evade the Dark Lord, then she had probably chosen correctly to do her best to play both sides. She considered asking for more information, but decided she really didn't need to know, and definitely didn't want to know. So she changed the subject. "Next, I should like to say that I was rather surprised by one thing in particular tonight."

"Your mother's family..."

Liz cut him off, "Er, no. Although I have many unanswered questions after meeting my mother's brother, those have been internalized and delayed for many years now. It was a specific detail which we discussed. He had already known that I lost the internship at St. Mungo's --"

Snape grimaced.

Liz felt briefly disgusted with herself at so easily quitting after Snape gave her such a glowing recommendation, but she powered on. " -- and he gave me explicit instructions to accept a new job, a job that will surely be coming my way soon. He made it sound like the Dark Lord himself was making the arrangement, but if that was true, then why the runaround? Why didn't the deal happen tonight? The consultation with Mistress Lestrange was a very long shot at best, and the actual healing I performed tonight was within Cissy's skillset, if she had been stocked with dittany of course. That means I wasn't really needed there, but I was supposed to be prodded into taking this mystery job." She paused to think about how to tactfully say what came next, but she didn't have the wit or patience at the moment. "Could you be mistaken about Dumbledore manipulating my employment? Or, at least, could he have kept you out of the loop?"

The look on his face suggested that his attitude was about to get nasty. 

Before he could say something cutting, Liz handed him pipe and said, "The green hit is yours. Thank you again for bringing me here."

He glared at the glass, its bowl filled to the brim with sticky. But he said nothing, and after an extended pause, he gripped Amalaki in hand, sparked with his wand, and took a very large hit. He then passed it, rolling, to Liz, who took a rather less impressive hit, handed it back, and then marveled at the way Snape blew out the smoke and sucked in a new hit with the very next breath. Liz did the same, and they smoked in silence until the bowl was cashed.

Liz felt significantly calmer, and ready to re-start the conversation, but Snape spoke first. "I may be partly responsible, having expressed some concern with both masters about your safety among all the other agents at St. Mungo’s. I apologize for not thinking that through.”

She smiled warmly. He had been thinking of her safety. 

He continued, “The Headmaster has implied more than once that we should find suitable incentive to return you closer to school. We disagreed on the meaning of _suitable incentive_ , and I believe he may indeed be responsible for using his influence to manipulate high-ranking healers and bureaucrats to find any excuse to sack you. I am sure he will tell us this himself, since he wants us both to report to him." 

Liz was indignant, but the weed took the edge off, and she was perfectly calm when she said, "I have already told Dumbledore that I would not take sides. I will not take any order that breaches my Hippocratic Oath, and I will not stand for his manipulation of my personal or professional life."

"I think he is concerned that you seem too comfortable with the Dark Lord. To be fair I am concerned at the same notion, since you have so blindly followed me to him with no complaint, but the Headmaster is someone you actively resist."

Liz closed her eyes and hoped that he would pick up on the key words of his own statement, and she seriously considered letting Snape peer into her mind. But as dangerous as that was any time, it was a downright stupid idea while stoned. She slowly opened her eyes again and said, "Yes, Severus, I followed you."

Snape was silent and still for a moment, and Liz wondered if she was about to be thrown out. Instead, his cold look gave way to an intense search of her face, and he surprised her by reaching out, touching the side of her face and stroking her glamoured hair.

Liz took a moment to admire his un-glamoured face. Those lips, his silky hair, the intense expression, all so delectable. His skin was still sallow, and the bags under his eyes rivaled her own, but he was such a picture of her own reality that she was going to need to distract herself soon from the wave of lust rolling over her. After taking a moment to memorize him again, Liz said quietly, "The diary has no spells at all. Please teach me."

He frowned. "None?"

She shook her head. "None. It mostly just illustrates that she was teetering on madness for at least the last four years. There are a few passages that are unreadable, and I have some other suspicions about what they contain. I'll finish reading it tomorrow, I think, and then I will probably share some of it with you. She did mention you by name, twice, and her thoughts about you are tied to the messed up plans she had for me."

There was more she could have rambled, but he interrupted, "Then I look forward to reading about it. In the meantime, hold your wand like this..."

It was a clever spell, with just the right combination of wand movements, intent, and inflection. It was almost exactly like the spells she admired the last time she went to a beauty salon. A sudden doubt hit her, and she swayed. Was it paranoia, or was it a legitimate doubt? She should probably just ask. "Severus," she began slowly, "did my mother really create this glamour technique?"

"As far as I know, yes. Perhaps you should visit your vaults again, to see if she kept another book of shadows, or even multiple notebooks." 

Liz slumped back on the sofa. "Yes, I suppose that's a good idea."

Snape slid up next to her, took her left hand in his right, and used his other hand to gently caress the snakes armband tattoo. "She was brilliant, in her own way. She kept meticulous notes for business, and her office at Fatin's Looks has a stack of sketchbooks from her product and marketing designs. I'll make sure Trace knows you are allowed full access to her office, so you may check those documents as well."

"Thank you. Perhaps I can ask Marlena to take me to work with her on Monday."

He nodded. Then suddenly he was kissing her. It was a very thorough snog, leaving her with no doubt of his intention.

Quickly, she put her thoughts together and said, “Severus, I very much enjoy kissing and a good grope, but I honestly do not like sex while stoned. I don't come right. Besides, I still have a story to share, and then we should probably report to Dumbledore.”

Snape was stroking her hair glamour again, and on the third pass since she stopped talking, his fingertips continued tracing lines down Liz's neck and collarbone. He looked into her eyes with a burning passion and said, “Tell me the story over breakfast. We will report to the headmaster at morning tea. And right now, I'm going to make you come.”

Liz's mouth went dry. To be fair, this weed could cause serious cottonmouth, but she could feel an ache between her legs inspired by his gentle caresses.

He kissed her thoroughly again, helping her lean back more comfortably on the sofa and nudging one knee between her thighs. He leaned over her, trailing his kisses down her throat, along the artery, lighting her body on fire. She squirmed against his knee, gripped his shoulders, and sighed a very satisfied little sigh.

Severus returned his lips to hers and took his time exploring her mouth, teasing her with his tongue. It went on for only a moment, or maybe it was an eternity, but Liz for one was feeling thoroughly snogged when he pulled back, shuddering out a breath he’d held through one last, leisurely kiss.

Hot. It was so sexy to turn him on.

He responded nicely to her greedy mouth, claiming his for another kiss. Then she spread her legs wide, wrapping them around his thin frame and rubbing lightly against him. The skirts of her clothes slid down, and he leaned on his right arm so that his left was free to stroke her exposed thigh. She arched her back and raised her hips to press harder against him, her thong underwear soaking wet against his trousers. This movement broke their frenzied kissing at the mouth, but he kissed and nipped along the neckline this presented to him, and there was no mistaking the rock hard erection gently grinding between them. 

Liz was perfectly aware that her orgasm was part physical, part psychological, and she was fairly certain she could come like this, after all. She just had to fantasize a bit, about the clothes disappearing, Severus being inside her, and both of them thoroughly enjoying the sensations... When she began to hump wantonly, he pulled his face back away from her throat and reached down again to hold her hip steady. His ragged breath, and the naked wanting on his face, pitched Liz over the precipice, and she closed her eyes while she moaned out her shuddering orgasm.

As the lusty haze lifted, she felt him shuddering, too, burying his face in the crook of her neck and squeezing her tightly as his hips bucked on top of her.

Reveling in his physical release, even as she was pressed hard into the lumpy sofa cushions, Liz came again, squirming and moaning under him. 

He didn't get up afterward, or even look up. His grip loosened, but he continued to rest on top of her. When he let out another long, shuddering breath, she thought she heard him whisper something about "high sex" against her neck.

They dozed.

She was alone on the sofa when she woke up properly, a few hours later. A stiff but warm blanket had replaced the comforting weight of her lover, and she felt a pang of loss. It was Sunday morning, just before dawn, and Liz was heartened by the realization that she was not awakened by nightmares, despite being away from the dreamcatcher.

But then a rather distinctive cramp seized her lower back, and she groaned. Throwing off the blanket and swinging her feet over the side of the sofa, she did a little calendar math and was frustrated to discover that this period was about a week late. 

It was easy to forget, since her typical cycle was a fairly long 38 days, and she never needed to worry about a late period. In the ancient texts it was referred to as the "Curse of the Healer" that she is always barren. There was one legend in one very old book about a Hand Healer who successfully conceived by performing an intense ritual that spanned an entire moon cycle, but, alas, she lost the baby when her body rejected it anyway.

Screw that, Liz thought. The real "Curse of the Healer" was a shocking lack of effectiveness when healing her own body. The more magic there was in the remedy, and the more complicit Liz herself was in causing the issue, then the less relief she could find from the ailment or injury. Her period was probably late due to stress, as that had certainly happened to her before, and the best thing to do now was deal with these cramps that she would certainly be feeling off-and-on for most of the day.

Snape was nowhere to be found, so she gingerly stepped around the small house until she found the toilet. Liz longed to leave and go score a muggle pain pill. But she wanted to get ready for the debriefing with Dumbledore, and there was no way she'd bail out of Snape's house while he wasn't there. As she relieved herself, she eyed the claw-foot bathtub and the hand-held showerhead attached to the tap. Mind made up, she stripped and took a long, nearly-scalding shower, wondering if the house had a muggle water heater. The sauna-like soak felt heavenly, until it turned ice-cold.

In Liz's well-stocked bag, she kept a pair of Fatin’s 1-Day Tampons, and she was ready for one now. This glorious little device was the inspiration behind Liz’s ideas to bind plain-English trigger spells to her music boxes. They combined the use of a sizing charm to fit just right as well as a vanishing charm to clean up, all bound to the tampon itself and triggered by the touch of a wand and the single word, “ _Activate_.” The tampon itself would vanish entirely after about 12 hours, since prolonged use could cause Vanishing Sickness, but that one day of convenience during each cycle was totally worth their hefty price tag. Ah, to be a witch!

Her mother had probably invented these, which matched Liz’s memory of discussing the music boxes with Sila. This gave more credibility to Snape's insistence that Sila was brilliant, but Liz did not want to think about her mother, and she sang to herself instead, as she freshened her clothes and put them back on.

_From "Express Yourself" by Madonna_

_You don't need diamond rings or eighteen karat gold  
_ _Fancy cars that go very fast, you know they never last no, no  
_ _What you need is a big strong hand  
_ _To lift you to your higher ground  
_ _Make you feel like a queen on a throne  
_ _Make him love you 'til you can't come down_

 _Don't go for second best, baby  
_ _Put your love to the test  
_ _You know, you know you've got to  
_ _Make him express how he feels and maybe  
_ _Then you'll know your love is real_

After taking nearly an hour primping, Liz was able to shut aside the dull ache in her core and smile at her own reflection. Though she did not have much to smile about these days, she was certainly looking forward to seeing Severus Snape again soon.

A dull cramp flared to a pinching knot of pain, and Liz had had enough. She went back to the living room, thankful for the chance to lie-in, and she prepared to smoke. She ran her hands over the rough leather of her smoking case before opening it and examining her two strains of marijuana. The indica might be a good choice, if she could sneak in a whole nap before Snape returned. But she did not know when that would happen, so she ground a blend of the indica with the sativa, and then loaded up Amalaki. 

Amalaki's glass head was brilliantly colored, and now caked with resin to make those colors pop. The body was murky red, and the tail feathers were still mostly clear. 

Also clear, the main wing feathers stretched straight out both sides. The carb was located just under the wing joint, so the best way to hold it was in the palm of one's left hand. She held it gingerly, lovingly, stroking it once from head to tail before producing her wand to spark it.

And Liz got high. It was such a relief, as she cashed the bowl, to feel her insides untie. She knew from experience that the best thing now would be exercise, or maybe a good massage. Hmm. Yes, she would wait for Snape to arrive and ask for that relief.

In the meantime, she pulled her master music box and a stack of papers out of her bag and sat down to study. It was time to learn some new music, and the last thing that she had printed from her old computer was information about Modest Mouse. After fumbling a bit with the lyrics last night, she wanted to practice the whole album.

She set a music box to play the whole album, reading up on the band and listening very carefully. A few tracks went on repeat. She had a rather enjoyable early morning with new music, doing a little yoga after every song to stretch and ease her muscles as she came down.

_“Custom Concern” by Modest Mouse_

_Their custom concern for the people  
_ _Build up the monuments and steeples  
_ _To wear out our eyes_

 _I get up just about noon  
_ _My head sends a message for me to reach for my shoes  
_ _And then walk  
_ _Gotta go to work, gotta go to work, gotta have a job_

 _Goes through the parking lot fields  
_ _Doesn't see no signs that they will yield  
_ _And then thought  
_ _This'll never end, this'll never end, this'll never stop_

 _Message read on the bathroom wall  
_ _Says, "I don't feel at all like I fall."  
_ _And we're losing all touch, losing all touch  
_ _Building a desert_

It was with this melancholy soundtrack playing, and Liz sprawled over the couch with her papers, that she felt a shift in the house's wards. She smiled her first genuine smile of the day. He is back! As the door swung open, she gathered her notes and put them away.

He was still standing in the doorway when she turned the full force of her smile on him. His grimace at her expression wiped it from her face. His glamours were back in place.

"What's wrong?"

He didn't answer while he carefully reconstructed his wards. He didn't answer while he schooled his own expression and studied her. He didn't answer as she looked down at herself, wondering if something was amiss with her own appearance, aside from wearing yesterday's clothes.

Then he leaned back against the warded front door. If she hadn't known him so long, she wouldn't have thought anything of it, but now she perceived a slight _slump_ to his posture.

She was next to him in a heartbeat. He was already standing again, ramrod straight, when she snaked her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder.

He stood perfectly still for a moment, and then, finally, he said, "We must talk before you see the Headmaster."

Liz smirked and burrowed her face deeper into his shirt. "Can I hold you while we talk?"

His calm, even breathing was betrayed by the racing heart under her ear.

"Or not," she muttered, pulling back to show him a grin. "Too distracting?" she teased.

Face blank, he said, "Remove your hands from my person."

Frowning, Liz hesitated.

"Please."

A moment later they were both at the sofa, but he was keeping at least a handspan between them, even as Liz fidgeted.

"Miss Althea --"

Oh that was _not_ a good start to this conversation.

"-- You must never return here, or speak of it to anyone."

Her shock must have registered. Before she could say anything, he shut down the protests that were already on the tip of her tongue.

"This is very serious. I have been assigned an assistant for certain duties, and _no one_ can be aware that you have been here."

Frowning still, Liz thought fast. "Then you may need to clean the bathroom, as well as the couch. I am not sure what traces I may have left behind."

When his expression softened and he simply nodded, Liz's heart leapt. A brief moment passed as he sized her up, apparently contemplating exactly what to say next.

She tried not to fidget. She tried to bite her tongue. She tried to wait.

She was so close to failing at all three, when, finally, he said, "We don't have much time before you must away to see the Headmaster. However, I wish to be honest with you about something."

Liz fought to swallow a giggle. "I rather suspect that espionage requires honestly as much as possible, so that when a lie is truly required it is easier to weave and track."

"Naturally," he conceded, "but --" He hesitated for just a beat. "I have been tasked with seducing you."

This time Liz laughed and didn't bother to bite it back. "So, mission accomplished? I mean, we may not have engaged in coitus, but it is safe to say we've been _intimate_ , and, as long as we're being honest here, I am _aching_ to do it again." She flashed her most flirtatious smile.

The slight slump was back in his posture. "Are you high?"

"I am... coming down. I hardly toked, just enough to loosen the cramps. The cramps that might indicate a certain turn-off from coitus... or not? I won't judge. In fact, I'd be rather enthusiastic about an orgasm taking care of the muscle tension from the inside, if you’re not too squicked by the blood."

She couldn't quite decipher the look on his face. If she had to guess, she'd go with _incredulous_ , but that was not an expression she would normally associate with Severus Snape.

In for a penny, in for a... muggle idiom. Hmm. Gotta watch that. But for now, it was too fun watching Snape's shock. She winked. "I know lots of cleaning charms that are safe on sensitive skin." She waggled her fingers. "Comes with the territory."

That did it. Snape smirked.

Much better. Liz felt braver now about what had to come next. "So, you seduced me." She shrugged. "Obviously you're not the first to do so this week. Maybe you won't be the last. Any chance you know just how many men have been pressured one way or the other about my sex life?"

The question hung between them for a few seconds. Liz started to have doubts again, but she was done being nervous that she had stepped over some line of propriety. If he wanted honesty, it was time for honesty, and he did not disappoint when he said, "Both of my masters seem to understand something that I don't. The Dark Lord seems unwilling to explain, and the Headmaster has suggested that he literally cannot. I think it has something to do with a ritual that opens the protections on your mind."

Liz gulped, hard. The barriers and mists and traps, the overall dangerous lockdown on her mind, was one of the few things she could offer that made it safe for Snape to take his confidence to her and comfort from her. As much as she wanted to get physical with him, the last thing she wanted to do was get him into trouble.

He continued, "I was specifically restricted from telling you the whole truth about this, by both of them."

Now Liz understood the gravity of this conversation. He was trusting her, completely, with a betrayal to both masters. Then, the moment they unlocked her mind, she would be defenseless against the greatest legilimancers in the world, and _he_ would suffer consequences. "So, we can't have intercourse, at least, not yet. Not until we understand the ritual, the purpose of the ritual, and the fallout of the ritual. But they both are playing it too close to the chest, and we, that is, you and I, need to work together to figure it all out."

A rare gentle smile appeared on his face. "Precisely. You'll be meeting the Headmaster alone today. I will be here preparing for my... _guest_." He spat that last word with disgust, but she did not have time to wonder who it could be. "I will come by the Blumwand home Wednesday night for my regular checkup with Julia, and to deliver the healing supplies I promised. You must study, Persephone. Find the remaining notebooks your mother left you; talk to her directly; and for Merlin's sake come up with some ideas about July 31st."

She nodded eagerly but spoke slowly. "Yes, Severus, I can do all of that. Anything else?"

"Yes." He hesitated. "Despite the mists and traps inside, your face on the outside is an open book most of the time. If it helps you dissemble for the Headmaster, consider that _I_ am the one feeling seduced."

Liz's flirtatious grin made a comeback. "That might just work." She could feel her face fall. "But, as much as I want you, I don't want, er, doubts about your consent."

It was a very long pause that followed this statement. She was wondering, again, if he was wishing for a way to get a read on her, to confirm the truth of what she said. About a hundred pop and rock songs flashed through her mind, all about being true and honest with one's lover. Maybe she could pick one to sing for him next time she saw him, though she might have to hold back the force of her Siren's song.

After an eternal moment, he interrupted her runaway music drama by reaching out to her. He brushed the pads of his fingers across the back of her hands, where she held them fast to each other in her lap. Then he said, "You are the only one who even pretends to care what I want for myself. I used to think it didn't matter, that I would do my duty and pay my debts, and that would be enough. But now I am not so sure. What we have is certainly tangled up in dubious consent. What I want, Persephone, is to fully understand the ramifications of... sampling all your enchantments."

Flirtatious grin back brighter than ever, Liz nodded. This was the most thrilling rollercoaster. This man, this complicated, sexy, brilliant, tall, dark, and brooding rollercoaster. "I'm on it," she said, stone sober at last. "I have a bear of a to-do list, and I suspect it will only get longer after my visit to Hogwarts. But, Severus, I swear this is the top priority." She licked her lips. "May I kiss you goodbye for now?"

A glimmer of approval flashed in his eyes, and he nodded.

Their kiss was sweet, and chaste, and it held all the promises that neither of them dared to speak.


	12. Keep the Beast in My Nature Under Ceaseless Attack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I'm sorry I had to break period with a song at the end of this chapter. "Polar Opposites" was on Modest Mouse's second studio album, The Lonesome Crowded West, released November 1997. But, I just couldn't make the scene wait over a year!

#  P1Ch12 Playlist

  * Title track: "Insomnia" by Faithless 1995
  * "Deep Kick" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers 1995
  * _Liz queued up the whole album (One Hot Minute RHCP 1995)_
  * _A tantalizing tune was drifting out through the front door as Liz arrived, making her hips roll automatically as she matched her gait to the beat._
  * "Polar Opposites" by Modest Mouse 1997



Chapter 12 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6NQr4YcjKGZEZnAojvXkOM?si=qE5weliiQkyJS_-R2kB-gw>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 12: Keep the Beast in My Nature Under Ceaseless Attack

Dumbledore personally came down to the main gate when Liz arrived at Hogwarts. 

"Before I take your report," he began as they made their way to his office, "I have news about your grandmother."

In surprise, Liz nearly tripped over her own feet but she kept the pace without stumbling too much. 

"When you arrive back at home with the Blumwands you will likely have the M.L.E. report among your post. The short version is that they found no trace of your grandmother's presence, let alone any evidence of a crime against her. M.L.E. did attempt to contact her at home, but she did not respond, and there was no evidence of magic used at her residence. Furthermore, the report concludes that no magic was used in the ransacking of your house."

As he recited this, Liz frowned deeper and deeper. "So, I'm considering 3 possibilities. First is that Grandmother Althea was targeted specifically, and the house was wrecked through the process of erasing all signs of her presence. Second is that she interrupted a true ransacking, which would have been a frustrating task since I had already cleared out the valuables. But the third possibility, the one I think most likely here, is that I cannot trust this M.L.E. report at all."

"Actually, I'm inclined to believe the second. Someone wanted something very specific and could not find it. Your grandmother appeared and provided the perfect leverage. As long as the scene could be staged as a muggle crime, M.L.E. would have no jurisdiction, and here you are with no way to proceed."

She gave Dumbledore a measured look. "I suppose you have your own sources at M.L.E. that kept you in the loop on this."

"Naturally. But, Miss Althea, I am surprised that you have not yet received any demands against this leverage. I would be concerned if you don't have contact on the matter by the end of this week."

Liz nodded to confirm that she understood but silently considered the whole situation. The abrupt end to the M.L.E. investigation was a troubling development, and Liz was deeply disturbed at the notion that she maybe just didn't care what happened to her early childhood bully. She had too many other immediate concerns to realistically believe she would lose any sleep over her missing grandmother.

She wondered, very briefly, if there was something wrong with her moral compass, when they arrived at Dumbledore's office. Once again, he asked Liz to bring up a memory bubble to witness the events at Malfoy Manor through a pensieve. When the scene wrapped, Dumbledore invited her to sit in her now-customary chair across the desk from him. Then he asked, "Who is your expert on binding marks?"

Liz wasn't completely sure why she felt the sudden compulsion to clench her jaw. Her mother was the one who took her to Suloos two years ago. She had dropped Liz at the boat dock of his little island, showed up again to retrieve her, and never actually spoke of him at all. She had learned more from the diary about the purpose Suloos had served in Sila's life, as well as the intended purpose for Liz. Now she wondered about the multiple curses on his person. She had originally thought that treating his many magical maladies were the reason that she had been sent to him, and that his knowledge of curse marks, ritual symbols, and tattoos were all corollary. When she read the diary, she wondered if the real purpose was the sexual education he provided, despite his amputated genitalia. Now, she wondered if she had missed another important reason for the seductive tutelage of Suloos the Eunuch.

Thinking it over, she stretched her masseter muscle gently until she felt like she could speak again. "I think, maybe, there is a problem with saying his name."

"Ah." Dumbledore sighed and steepled his fingers, looking at his desk instead of her. Somehow this made it easier for Liz to think and consider what she could or should tell him. "Miss Althea, there are several types of Taboo curses. Lord Voldemort himself is quite fond of the types that notify him of the use of his name. If you have found yourself literally unable to speak a name, that is a rare Silence Taboo. I have long suspected that you and your mother both are victims of multiple Silence curses." 

"How --" she started to ask the hundreds of questions that blossomed at this revelation, corroborating Sila's journal entry, but found she could not put them to voice. Dumbledore was absolutely right. She even knew about a couple of these Silence curses, but somehow the knowledge of the curses were tied to one or more of the Silences upon her. She managed to let out a "harrumph" but could not even wax poetic about the frustration.

Dumbledore smiled kindly at her. It was infuriating to Liz, but she took a deep breath and considered that he, too, might be unable to say what he really wanted to say. That was, after all, what Severus had suggested only hours prior.

"Professor," she finally ground out, "He is known in some circles as the Eunuch of Lesvos, and some others as Sappho's Priest." She watched for any sign of recognition, but Dumbledore's expression did not change, and he did not speak. So Liz rubbed her sore, clenched jaw and continued, "This man taught me many things that I did not fully understand at the time, and only partly understand now. But I am learning, and I will contact him as I promised Bella, but perhaps with some additional questions."

"Very good, Miss Althea!" He was downright cheerful now. "I believe Severus can help you, as well, and I would ask that you continue to help him in return. I am particularly concerned at his insomnia --"

"You and me, both," she interrupted.

"-- and how it may be affecting his performance on complex tasks."

"Executive function."

"Pardon?"

Liz sighed and prepared to recite. "Executive function: The cognitive skills associated with complexity management, risk assessment, problem solving, and decision making. The more basic forms of these skills include regulating emotions, thinking before acting, organizing ideas, and reflection. He did admit a mistake to me just last night, about failing to think something through. Your concern is that lack of sleep has impaired Severus' executive function --" She shrugged. " -- and while that is the most common reason, there are many possible causes, including a variety of mental and physical ailments. I will look into it. Personally I prefer to do it on purpose with alcohol."

The stern look he gave her might have made anyone else cower, but she still saw a hint of his usual twinkle. "Alas, we have arrived at my concerns about you."

She harrumphed again and lifted her chin, very carefully selecting her next words. "Yes, but, I think I've been over my mistakes well enough with Severus. For now I'll try to rely on Tonks as a drinking buddy, and avoid temptations with other men." She paused, staring at the floor. "I really hurt him, and I'm really sorry. I think he forgave me, but I don't know. Honestly despite our obvious chemistry I just didn't think he was interested in a serious emotional attachment."

"He also doesn't have time for an emotional attachment. We are all asking so much of him, and at some point he needs to rest."

Liz sent him the most accusing glare she could muster. "Isolation can also impair executive function."

A pause stretched out between them, as they both sized each other up. 

This was the moment, Liz realized, that Severus had meant to warn her about when he said he was feeling seduced. This was the moment that she needed her shift in perception, to really play the part he needed her to play. She softened her face, looked off dreamily over his shoulder, and said, "Don't worry, Headmaster. The next time I see him I will evaluate his true workload, and I'll get him to sleep." She glanced back to offer a quick wink and asked, "Was there anything else?"

"Two things. First, eventually I will want to meet your expert on binding marks, preferably sooner than later, but I will wait until you have contacted him and received a response. Keep me informed on your correspondence. Second, do not meddle in the relationship between Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. He requested consultation with a discreet healer, not an influence on his girlfriend."

Liz was taken aback. Both Lupin and Tonks had seemed interested in Liz's perspective on their situation, as well as her availability as a friend to Tonks, and she thought she had done rather well disclaiming her personal opinion from her professional opinion. Did Dumbledore trust  _ none _ of his Order to have a healthy loving relationship? Or, perhaps, was he trying to isolate her as much as he had already isolated Severus? She had just said that she wanted to rely on Tonks.

These questions lingered in her mind, even as she nodded her hesitant acquiescence. When Liz dared to speak, she asked simply, "May I stay at the castle a bit, to speak with Professor Flitwick?"

"So sorry, my dear, but he has left for his summer holiday. He will be back along with the rest of the staff on the last day of August."

She nodded again, more confidently this time. "I see. Then I will leave directly. I have some studying to do before tomorrow morning."

\------------------------------

The isolation question persisted in Liz's mind, even as she flooed to the Blumwands' and joined them for a late brunch. She mechanically ate her food, and they politely restrained any questions about her experience over the last day.

They seemed relieved when Liz finally spoke, even though she interrupted Marlena's chatter about work to ask if she could tag along tomorrow.

"Ja, of course, Liebkind. My shift is nine to four, with an hour lunch at noon; do you need anything special?"

"That's perfect. I'll have Mister Trace show me to mum's office. After lunch I will visit mum at St. Mungo's. Julia, I will ask mum if she wants to see you the next day, all right?"

Julia's smile was an ice-melter, and Liz truly hoped the visit would be a happy one. 

For now, it was time to admit what had happened. "So, I have to tell you all, that I will not be working there anymore. I made some mistakes, and they reflected poorly on my supervisor, Healer Kayson. I'm told there's another job offer coming soon, but I don't know what or when. In the meantime, I'd like to spend a morning or a few at Fatin's Looks, trying to figure out what my mother may have left behind for me."

The looks of pity were too much, and Liz was staring at her plate when Thomas said, "Little Lizzy, we will help you however we can."

"Thank you," she said, without looking up. "I need to review a few more things from the books I already have, and after supper today I'd like to begin building my potions rig in the cellar, if that offer is still an option."

"Of course. I'm sure Lippy would be happy to help you clean it up."

Lippy. Oh, Lippy. In her shame of forgetting Lippy, again, Liz had tears swimming in her eyes, for the first time in days. "'Scuse me," she slurred, and ran up to Sanja's -- her -- room. 

It was normally a relaxing ritual, locking and warding a door. It was a feeling of calm, and of safety, but she had been so consumed by a threat of isolation that today it was terrifying. She was locking out everyone again, setting a bad example for Julia, and now very concerned for her own executive function. Liz knew perfectly well that she was floundering in the aftermath of multiple traumas, her own and others' problems, and way more responsibility than any 17-year-old should have to endure.

On top of all that, she had barely slept last night, just dozing on a sofa, and her cramps had flared again during brunch, and she was just feeling so wrecked.

Liz eyed her handbag and seriously considered the smoking case. Alcohol and drugs: impairments; pain and blood: impairments; lust and love: impairments. 

Wait. That last one. Love. Love and music can save us. Who said that? It was time to test the latest experimental spell on her master music box. She found it, placed it on the vanity, and pulled her wand. " _ Search Lyrics: Love and Music Can Save Us _ ."

The first notes made her smile, and the spoken-word poetry that opened the track calmed her considerably. That's right. She was looking for the Deep Kick, in more ways than one. With this optimistic thought, Liz let the music play and freshened up by opening the closet to change her clothes.

_ From "Deep Kick" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers _

_ It started when we were little kids ... free spirits but already tormented by our own hands  
_ _ Given to us by our parents we got together  
_ _ And wrote on desks and slept in laundry rooms near snowy mountains   
_ _ And slipped through whatever cracks we can find ... minds altered, we didn't falter ...  _

_ In portraying hysterical and tragic characters  
_ _ In a smog filled universe ... We loved the dirty city ... And the journeys away from it   
_ _ We had not yet been or seen our friends, selves  
_ _ Chase tails round and round in downward spiral   
_ _ Leaving trail of irretrievable vital life juice behind _

_ Still the brothers blood comrades partner family cuzz was impenetrable  
_ _ And we lived inside it laughing with no clothes  
_ _ And everything experimental 'till death was upon us   
_ _ In our face mortality ... and lots of things seemed futile then  _

_ But love and music can save us ... and did _

_ Two young brothers on a hover craft  
_ _ Telepathics love and belly laughs _

_ Oooooooh shit! Oooooooooooh shit!  
_ _ We went to Fairfax High School, Jumped off buildings into their pools  
_ _ We'd sit down and grease at canters, Run like hell they can't catch us  
_ _ Two boys in L.A. proper, Two boys in L.A. proper  
_ _ Stealin' anything that we could  
_ _ Gotta sneak into the starwood, Gotta peak into the deep good _

_ I remember ... ten years ago  
_ _ In Hollywood ... we did some good  
_ _ And we did some real bad stuff  
_ _ But the Butthole Surfers said,  
_ _ It's better to regret something you did than something you didn't do  
_ _ Yeah, we were young   
_ _ And we were looking, looking ... we were looking for the deep kick  
_ _ Yeah, see 'em come, see 'em go ... and I feel like gettin' close to you _

Ah, that was better. In fact, Liz queued up the whole album, now dressed in her comfortable favorite leggings and silk robe. She was ready to crack the books again. She gave it a good effort, but the trauma booklet still hit too close to home. She saw her own destructive coping mechanisms listed: drugs, sex, alcohol. She was determined to find one good thing, and the more positive coping mechanisms included exercise. That was something she could do. She slammed the book shut and got to her feet to dance.

Step, side-step, dig, sashay, pirouette, and on and on. She performed every move she knew, stopping shy of the great leaps, with no room to complete them safely alongside the bed, and then turned to yoga. Straight up, straight down, sun salute, downward dog, and on and on. She performed every vertical position she knew, stopping shy of the inversions. While capable, she knew she wasn't in top form, and that any inverted mistake could easily become an injury.

Finally, she turned to the stack of post. The M.L.E. report was right there on top, and a quick scan revealed that Dumbledore's summary was trustworthy. Of course, he wouldn't be so daft as to directly contradict an official written document. She read through it more carefully, and it was consistent, indeed. This was very disappointing, and she wondered if it would fall on her to investigate it herself. Maybe she should just call the muggle police for a well-check. Yes. She could pretend to be a concerned neighbor. Muggles might not be up to the task, but at least she would feel like she's doing something instead of nothing.

The next item on the stack was a letter from Tonks, wondering if Liz still wanted to take her to a dancing lesson Monday night. She quickly penned an affirmative response, though she had no owl to send it along yet.

Likewise, the expected invitation had arrived from Cissy, and Liz wrote a return confirmation for tea on Tuesday afternoon.

And then, joy of joys, Liz found a letter from Riley.

_ Dear Liz, _

_ I miss you, and I love you. I know you will take that at face value, and not the wrong way. I've been trying to send a portkey, so that you can come visit, but our owl keeps coming back with it.  _

_ I have another love to tell you about, and maybe you can meet him if we can time it right and get a portkey through. I think you'll like him! _

_ Don't forget, Lizzy, you are worth the risk. You always have been. You think Kellan and I didn't notice how you spend your holidays in secrecy? You think we could ignore the nightmares? I was so happy you found a lover to hold you at night, since I don't lean that way myself. _

_ Come see us. Me, my folks, my beau. We'll try to give you some normal. _

_ All my best,  
_ _ Riley _

Liz had never been so grateful for a friend. Tonks was promising and all, but Riley was her rock. He was the one unchanged focus of her life at school, year after year. She felt a little guilty about giving up on Kellan so easily, after what Riley said about the nightmares. She knew he was right. She knew Kellan had given her something normal and safe and sane that she was unlikely to ever find again.

But Kellan had been weak when Liz needed him the most. She wasn't so sure she could forgive that. The man who had stepped up, who had been in the right place at the right time with the right skills and the right influence... that was Severus Snape.

And the chemistry was unquestionable. Chemistry. That was the word she used with Dumbledore, to make him think it was all lust, to make him think she was aware and fine with being seduced. Which, in truth, maybe she was.

Was this how Persephone felt, when she considered the pomegranate? Maybe she knew the consequences, and she ate those seeds anyway. There was even a version of the myth, that Suloos had relayed to her, where Persephone not only knew but  _ was the seductress _ . In this telling, she fully intended to be the Queen of the Darkness.

Would Persephone Lysandra Althea do the same?

She penned her letter to Suloos first, then one to Riley, suggesting they should find a way to meet after two more weeks. That would give her a chance to survive and process whatever the hell was supposed to happen on July 31.

Finally, she dealt with the short note from George Weasley, asking her to come visit the shop at her earliest convenience, to pick up the paintbrush toy. She did not feel like she had to reply, but to simply show up during business hours.

She tucked her missives into a conjured folder and stowed them in her bag. She would pop in on Herr Schwarz after her morning Fatin's Looks, and she would visit Weasely's Wizard Wheezes after her afternoon at St. Mungo's. Tomorrow was shaping up to be another very long day.

For today, she needed to open that diary and try again with her mother's words. She eyed it warily. Maybe she needed to study the myths again first.

Lucky for Liz, she found Thomas in his office, and he had a copy of Hamilton's  _ Mythology _ that he allowed her to borrow. With a brief word of thanks and an apology for ducking out so quickly, Liz took the book back to her room. It wasn't the most comprehensive tome, but it was a decent refresher on the basics, and Liz drank in the illustration of "The Rape of Persephone," wondering again who was actually the Hades of her mother's insanity. She read on, and she was troubled at the idea that Persephone was "the maiden whose name may not be spoken," but relieved at the idea that "in their grief and at the hour of death, men could turn for compassion to the goddess who sorrowed and the goddess who died."

Severus dared to do both. He was the only person who insisted on using her given name, and he was the one who needed her compassion the most. She could feel it, when they touched, a creeping darkness of suffering at the edges of the soul; and she could hear it, when he spoke her name, the rising frustration of helplessness at the edges of the wits. Here she was, thinking about Severus again, when she should be studying. She smirked to herself, guessing at the sort of insult he might heap upon her for the distraction, before she made a better effort to focus back on the book.

Hamilton also confirmed that Sappho had worshipped Demeter and Persephone. Liz revised her letter to Suloos, adding two brief but potentially valuable questions in the same style of her mother's diary entries. "Would Persephone do well to study Demeter's influence or focus on her own? Are any rituals of their Great Mysteries scheduled soon?"

It was odd to see the name  _ Suloos _ written on the face of the envelope. She realized only today that she had never spoken the name aloud to anyone but the man himself, and she had only seen it printed in her mother's diary. She felt a little silly that she hadn't even thought of trying to write it down for Dumbledore.

Liz had a moment of doubt, where she wondered if he was even real. Of all her secret mentors, Suloos was the most mysterious by far.

She shot up from her perch on the vanity stool, stripped off all her clothes, and stood in front of the mirror, caressing her asklepian staff, her first ever tattoo. Suloos had to be at least as real as these marks. He had taught her about tattoos. He had helped her select this one. He introduced her to the artist who applied it, in the traditional methods that helped her learn to swallow her pain and do what must be done.

She owed him a great deal already, and now she had more need of him than ever.

Still nude and standing with a view of herself, Liz thought of the other lessons Suloos had offered. He was her second mentor in the bedroom arts, after just one night with Kochi-san. Kochi Keichi had used her body and showed her its promise, but Suloos trained her in awareness of her  _ self _ , of her capacity to feel and give pleasure. "Everyone is responsible for knowing how to reach their own orgasm," he had instructed, "but we are also responsible for providing what our partner needs to do so. The key is communication. Tell me how this feels..."

Oh yes, Suloos had been a superb instructor for a naive young lady who had only had one partner, one time, for entirely selfish reasons. Suloos had to be at least as real as every orgasm she ever had, and most of the orgasms of her partners, too. If Suloos wasn't real, nothing was, and nothing mattered.

But if Suloos was real, then he had answers she needed, and she had a responsibility to Severus that wasn't quite fulfilled. She still wasn't sure what he had whispered last night, after coming in his pants. She still wasn't sure if he really wanted her, or just wanted to obey his masters. She wasn't even sure if Werner Schwarz was right or wrong about his suspicion of Severus with her mother, but she started to believe that even if they had been intimate, it was entirely about his skill with legilimency, possibly as a safeguard to breaking the Silences. 

Was that all it would take? A skilled legilimens and an intimate act? No, Kochi-san was also a skilled legilimens, and she had already been intimate with Severus. Was it ritual intercourse specifically, perhaps with a spoken spell or song? She desperately needed more information.

But for now she couldn't seem to get Severus off her mind. This nude moment of reflection had whipped up her lust, and she needed to release it. She watched herself in the mirror, running her hands down her entire body, from her crown down her sides to her tip-toes, and then back up the inside of her calves, her thighs, her center. She fingered herself, tapping the Fatin's 1-Day Tampon, pushing it, in turn to tap her cervix. 

She dropped to her knees, one hand still up inside herself and the other tweaking her nipples, alternating between them. Closing her eyes, she imagined Severus below her and felt a rush of arousal and wetness. She spared a moment's thought for George Weasley, a little guilty that she may have led him on even as she realized how much she needed Severus. The way they both looked at her was serious and hot. Fuck yes, this was her fantasy, and she imagined George kneeling behind her, caressing her bum with one hand and stroking himself with the other as she rode her preferred lover.

Yessssssssssssssss. That was the money shot. Liz shook with the force of her pulsing cervix and wobbled on her knees as her toes curled.

And then she fell forward, panting, onto both of her palms. After catching her breath, she raised her head to give herself a saucy wink in the mirror. These men had  _ no idea _ the heights she would take them, if they would let her.

\------------------------------

Monday dawned clear and bright, but Liz was groggy and annoyed at the mess of her blood-soaked sheets.

"Lippy?"

The elf appeared.

"Thank you again for your help with cleaning in the cellar last night. Could I trouble you to work on these bed linens while I shower?"

Lippy nodded and snapped her fingers, disappearing along with Liz's bedding.

Along with Fatin's 1-Day Tampons, and their bold-faced warnings about 1 use per period, Liz kept some ordinary muggle Tampax in her bag. In her shower, she used a washing cloth to wash her crotch, every lovely crevice and neat pie-slice bush, while smiling fondly at the memory of last night's fantasies.

She had continued to indulge after working on her potions rig. She had imagined Severus seeing her work, swiping it all to the floor so he could take her on the workbench, and then deftly casting the repair charms to set everything right. She had imagined George, working alongside her on their inventions, until they couldn't think through their lust and need. Once she was back in bed, she imagined Kellan and his patient exploration of her body, always finding the sweetest spots and the gentlest releases to help her sleep. She even spared a moment to imagine Jason Kayson, and how he needed her way more than she needed him.

After much pampering and cleansing, Liz emerged from her shower in a state of soggy prune-ness, and with only a few minutes to prepare to leave with Marlena. Throwing on a basic blue dress robe, Liz charmed her hair up, applied a vanilla fragrance, and grabbed her handbag just in time to meet Marlena at the fireplace.

She was probably glowing, but she definitely did not care. Marlena went straight to her own office, and Ken Trace showed Liz to Sila's.

Jackpot. The marketing notes were on top. Pure genius, but irrelevant to Liz's goals. The spell inventions were next. These were insightful, though maybe not as brilliant as her ability to get clients to empty their wallets. Liz spared a whole hour to the notes on Fatin's 1-day Tampons and why they never became a 2-day product. The glamours were all here, too. Liz suddenly felt a little silly about asking Severus for help on that matter, but he had both the skills and the right suggestion for how to learn more. She wondered again if he maybe actually liked teaching, despite his insistence otherwise. The final notebooks in the back of the file cabinet were full of detailed drawings. Faces, places, and artifacts that Liz recognized from their world travels. She ripped out the page with the perfect reproduction Suloos' round face, hoping it would help a post owl find him.

Herr Schwarz was kind and professional about her brief visit over the lunch hour. He handled her post, and he put her house back on the market. He even promised to find the correct contact for muggle law enforcement in her grandmother's neighborhood. Liz marvelled again at her mother's brilliance as a people person, having found and cultivated this relationship with Werner Schwarz, the ultimate personal assistant.

And then it was time to see Sila.

The first hurdle was Jason Kayson, whom she'd written off entirely and did not want to see. He was subdued and quiet, only responding to her direct request to see her mother. When she was finally alone in the room, alone as she could be with audio recording at all times, she didn't quite know what to do. She still hadn't asked Severus for help with the right questions, but she was starting to think that maybe she didn't need to bother him with it, if he could get direct access to her anyway. For now, she fell back on formalities. "Mistress, thank you for seeing me."

Sila held out her hands in the formal witch's greeting, and Liz bowed as she took them. 

"May I ask, why are the walls so bare?"

Indeed they were a plain institutional off-white, with no evidence that she'd ever been allowed to mark them at all. Sila stared over Liz's shoulder and said, "No need for such expressions. You are finding your way."

"The significance of the date eludes me," Liz pressed, "and I need the next expression." 

Sila turned away and began to dance. Liz studied the movements. It was so familiar, and yet she couldn't place it. This was the exact same feeling she had gotten from Snape's maker's mark. 

But, this is what Sila chose to do in response to Liz's questions, and she was ready to analyze things properly this time. She suspected the date had to do with her first foray into hand healing back in Cameroon, but this dance was rather more like the moves she learned from Madam Miku in Japan. Was this, perhaps, all about Liz's choice to conduct her sexuality on her own terms?

Back in Cameroon, she had no choice about what happened to her. The Elders and Aicha did the best they could with the unexpected Hand Healer who arrived. The Spider Shaman had locked down her mind so that she would never have to reveal her true desires. Everyone, from that moment on, would have to take what she said and either believe her or not.

So who believed her, and who did not? Who would follow her lead, and who would try to force her? 

Liz left Sila with more questions than answers, but also with more confidence than she when she arrived.

Next stop: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Fred and George were both there, heads bent over the books at the cashier's counter, with hardly two customers in their normally crowded shop. Liz felt a little exposed, but she approached the counter and saw their twin grins directed back at her.

"Er, I need the brush, and I need some lunch."

Fred nudged George, none too gently. "Go on, Romeo" he said.

"Yeah," said George. "Lunch first. Then we'll come back here for business."

Liz nodded, and she took the arm George offered as he came around the counter.

Outside the shop, George seemed to hesitate.

Liz decided to be direct. "Look, George, I like you, but I rather need to focus on business while I sort out other things in my personal life. If you still want to have lunch with me, it's just as friends. You were the one who mentioned school in September. If my cocked up personal life gets too weird for me by then, I'll come to you with a great slobbery smooch so you have no doubts, all right?"

The look on his face was conspiratorial, but Liz was a little let down that it took such a blunt speech. Gryffindors. Ugh. She tried to share his wicked grin when he said, "You got it, Liz. Where would you like to eat?"

"Have you been to Kakegurui yet?"

"Heard good things. Too pricey for us Weasleys, while we're figuring out the right investments."

"Fine. I'm buying. Let's gamble!"

Dave the waiter introduced himself again, much to Liz's relief. He said, "We are so, so pleased that you bring a new face. That is how we thrive, you know, finding everyone's favorite food and sharing it 'round the clientele!"

Well that explained a lot. Liz herself had been craving that Butter Burger, and when she felt like something fresh and peachy the most glorious fruit salad had appeared. This time, Dave promised, "I will bring you Mister Weasley's favorite today, and if you dare deny it then I will pay the bill myself."

Dave's wink made Liz giggle, and George gave her hand a little squeeze as Dave disappeared. "You're so beautiful when you have a real smile."

The smile fell. "George, you're sweet, but I, er, have something complicated going on with another lover. The truth is, it probably won't last, but I want to give him my best while I can."

George seemed much calmer than Liz felt as he considered what she said. His voice was silky smooth, rivaling Severus himself when George finally said, "Lucky guy. I hope he's worth it."

Was he worth it? Did it matter? These were questions Liz still had not answered. Maybe she never would. She decided to lie through her teeth. "I think he is, but I don't think he feels the same way."

"Then why bother? Can't you just ask him? Damn, Liz, I thought you were different, but maybe you're just as much a snake as the rest."

She was so tempted to blurt that they were talking about Snape. She wondered if his reaction would be more visceral than the spit-take she got from Tonks. But she knew better and said, "I don't know. He's a serpent, too, so the direct approach is not advisable." She paused and toyed with the edge of her cloth napkin. "I think I do love him, but I think he will only use me. And, actually," she inhaled deeply, and sighed the next bit: "I think I am fine with that."

George blinked, hard, like he was unsure what he just heard. "What the hell, Liz?" His raised voice alarmed her. "You can't just let someone use you. No one deserves that, and you've got me right here trying to do it all right."

"No." Liz was indignant. "No," she repeated, "You don't decide what I deserve, and you don't decide what's right for me. If you want to have a chance with me, Young Master Weasley, you will be patient and kind and  _ listen _ to what I actually want."

He sprang to his feet and paced behind his chair. Liz was wary and didn't dare take her eyes off him. Whenever Severus paced, it was clearly to buy time to think, a  _ flight _ response; but this, from George, felt like he was burning off his rage, a  _ fight _ response. If George had a club within reach, would she be treated like a bludger?

The food arrived. It had an immediate calming effect on both of them. "Really?" he said, surprised, "Huevos Rancheros?"

Liz was already tucking in, moaning like a slut over the fresh green chili sauce. "I love this place," she said, with a mouth full of food and a heart full of positive feeling.

George's rage was gone, and he sat again to join her in the decadent gluttony.

Halfway through the meal, Liz swallowed an enormous bite and sighed, and then she cackled at the way her mouth kept watering for more. "If this is your favorite, George, then maybe we're more compatible than I thought."

He laughed, nearly choked on his own humongous mouthful, but managed to swallow and say, "Yeah, mum is a good cook, but she can't do justice to spicy dishes. When Fred and I got the startup money for the shop, we did a few weeks travel. Sedona, Arizona was a bust as far as the crystals and other magic goes, but wow the food was a flavor explosion like I'd never had."

"Durango, Colorado," Liz confirmed, between heaping forkloads, "right there near Four Corners, had green chili sauce just like this."

Simple but top-shelf quality tequila-and-lime margaritas were served with this dish, and Liz took care to sip at it slowly. The food was the star, anyway, and she was determined to keep her promise to Dumbledore about limiting the heavy drinking to her girlfriends. Or, girlfriend, singular, as it were.

Plates cleared and bill paid, Liz said, "So, as much as I loved coming here with you and eating this fabulous food, I believe we need to haggle over a paintbrush."

"Right, let's go back and take a look. I don't want you to consider it sight unseen."

She gave him a bright smile, "Much appreciated, Mister Weasley. That makes this much easier."

He offered an arm again, and she took it again. "So," he started, a little awkward, "Is September really the right timeline on deciding if you're really all right with him using you?"

A giggle bubbled up, against her will. Leave it to a Gryffindor to have this kind of brass. She figured she should at least try to honor his question with a serious answer. "Well, George, I rather suspect that things will change again when school starts again, if not before then. I'm not even sure if I'll be welcomed at Hogwarts, after the words I've had with the Headmaster. Yes, I think September is an appropriate guess for when you might try again to court me. Maybe October, at the latest."

"Right, give you a chance to settle in, if you do go back. But, Liz, if I hear any rumors that you aren't going back to school, I'll hunt you down and ask you out that day."

"Fair," she conceded. 

"So, the paintbrush comes with a palette. We couldn't find a way to do a standalone brush, but the palette does have a refilling charm that should last through a few wall murals. You have to prep the surface with a spell,  _ adparo planitia _ , and then you can use the paintbrush and palette just like a traditional oil painter."

"That's amazing," Liz was saying as they stepped through the shop door. George showed her to the window display, which now had the paintbrushes next to the kaleidoscopes. He plucked one just as he had with the enchanted glass toy the last time she had been. The feeling of deja vu was a bit much, but he did not take her up to the residence, much to her relief. Instead, he took her behind the cashier's counter.

"Fred painted this yesterday," he said, gesturing broadly at the closed cupboard doors and drawers.

Liz choked back a little chuckle. It was a comic strip, one panel on each of the cupboard doors, of customers asking for items located directly in front of them, while other stick figure customers made silly faces behind them. It was actually quite informative, and she wondered if they would use it as a subtle cheat sheet for their hired help.

Then George helped her practice the prep charm on one of their many promo signs hanging behind the counter, and together they painted a "NEW!" promo for the brush itself. It was effortless to make such clean lines and sharp colors, and she wondered about the potential for more, but she was really out of her league to evaluate those qualities. For now, she paid a premium to stow one in her bag right away.

Presenting it to Julia would have to wait, however. She was meeting Tonks at Veda's Moves, which was a dance studio on the main floor and a strip club in the basement, accessible through a back door. Liz had never been below, herself, but a little market research had been one of the tasks she performed for daddy when it was just the two of them running The Raven Witch. Liz remembered being impressed with how Mistress Veda kept the two businesses separated, and Mistress Veda herself had taught Liz the basics of ballet and ballroom dancing. Now, a tantalizing tune was drifting out through the front door as Liz arrived, making her hips roll automatically as she matched her gait to the beat.

Veda's had a proper class for belly-dancing beginners on Monday nights, and the bartender had a runner to take orders and deliver drinks between levels. Tonks was making quick progress tonight, determined to do well, and refrained from drinking at all, but every time she completed a level, Liz had herself another margarita. She only stopped at midnight, when she and Tonks both failed the sixth level; Tonks from a progressive struggle with her own clumsiness and Liz from a progressive struggle with her own sloppy drunkenness.

Things got hazy by that sixth level. Liz was moving to the music, oblivious to the rest of the class. She wasn't the only one in it who had been indulging at the bar, but she was the only one with a good friend dragging her to the floo at midnight so she could safely get home to sleep it off.

This time, Thomas and Marlena did not wait up.

No one chastised her at breakfast. No one commented on her preferred breakfast of dry toast and plain water. Liz felt a brief pang of loss at the mothering and fathering that Marlena and Thomas had been providing, but she shrugged it off and presented Julia with the giftbox holding the paintbrush, wrapped in a bright red ribbon that gave her an entirely different pang of loss.

Julia loved the paintbrush. Liz could tell, Julia had not taken to music as well as Liz wanted, but this paintbrush, this bit of  _ visual _ fine art, was exactly what she needed to express her abstract feelings.

For the next couple of hours, Julia played with her new toy, and Liz had herself a lie-in. She was awakened from her doze by the sound of loud knocking at her door, and Julia shouting for Liz to come see her bedroom. When they opened the door to Julia's room, Liz was a little startled. The walls were completely covered in slashing marks of red and yellow.

"Once I started, I couldn't stop. It felt so right, like a safe way to explain how I feel."

Liz praised Julia's color sense, and her expression of strong emotion through hot color. This discussion, however, was breaching the limits of Liz's knowledge of pigment and form. All of her own drawing skills were based on sketching real anatomy.

Julia's smile was sweet and serene, and Liz was thrilled. But it was time to take Julia to see Sila. She tried to prep Julia for the fact that Sila was not recognizing anyone. Training Julia in the formal witch and witchmaiden's greetings was easy enough, but Liz could tell that Julia was uncomfortable with the way that Sila looked through them without really seeing them.

It was awkward, when Julia asked Sila to braid her hair, and Sila simply stared past her.

"I'm sorry, Julia. Let's go." Liz turned to Sila and said, "Thank you for seeing us, mistress," but Sila's focus had disappeared and she did not respond. They stopped by Jason's office, where Liz asked without preamble, "Any progress on getting my mother out on a day pass?"

"Hi, Liz. Sorry, but Healer Bradstreet doesn't like the idea. In fact she wants to move Sila to Mentago."

"I see."

"You know, Liz, my offer is still open."

"And my answer is still no." She bristled, but she didn't want to fight in front of Julia. "I need to meet this Healer Bradstreet before I approve the transfer."

"Of course. She is coming early tomorrow. Perhaps you would meet with her at nine?"

"Thank you. I'll be back then." Liz didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heel, and Julia dutifully trotted after her.

She felt a bit guilty, sending Julia back home via floo from St. Mungo's but Liz had another appointment this afternoon.

It was time for a pure social call to Malfoy Manor.

Liz was welcomed with the gushing adoration she suspected was reserved for very powerful friends. The Malfoys were consummate aristocrats, holding a trifecta of power, money, and pedigree. Liz had dealt with this type of old blood in both Kyoto and Paris, and she had hated every minute of it.

But now she was playing power games on every front, and she needed to keep in the good graces of important people. Important people like Narcissa Malfoy and her spoiled son Draco.

Cissy was easy. They had already connected as secret healers. Today they chatted vacuously about clothes and other finery. Draco sat the whole time silently, sipping his tea robotically, a thousand-yard stare gracing the perfect planes of his face.

It must be the Soul Healer inside that recognized Draco's detached emptiness. She wondered if this was the real reason Cissy had invited her here today, to assess Draco the same way she assessed Bella.

"Well, my dear Lizzy," Cissy finally wrapped up, "I'm afraid I must retreat to the office. My husband's duties as head of the household have fallen to me. Perhaps you could stay for a bit, and Draco will entertain?"

Liz had her doubts, but Draco, for the first time all afternoon, reacted with a single nod. Liz lifted one eyebrow his direction, then plastered on a smile for Cissy. "Thank you, I think I will stay a few more minutes. But then I must away as well. Thank you for inviting me, Cissy. It was so wonderful to catch up on fashion. Until next time."

Once she was gone, Liz saw Draco slump down in his chair, tea forgotten.

"Can I help you, Draco?"

He shot her a glare. "No, I don't expect you can."

"You might be surprised."

"Unlikely. Everyone else might fawn over you now, but we lived together in the serpent's den for five years, and you're just as much a snake as the rest of us. You also butt in where you don't belong. You know things you shouldn't. And you are  _ not _ a pureblood witch. Avery line or not, my father would never approve of you the way my mother does."

Liz rose to her feet to slowly pace the room. Lucius Malfoy was in prison. His hatred of muggles and mudbloods could get stuffed, as far as Liz was concerned. Probably best to ignore that particular existential threat entirely. "What do you think your mother wants?"

He snorted. The arrogance of this boy was astounding. But finally he said something insightful. "She's worried about me, but she doesn't know what to do. She can't help me, either. No one can help me."

Liz nodded but continued to pace, a slight bounce to her step for the songs in her heart. "That's a very hard reality for a mother."

"It's a hard reality for  _ me _ ."

"Right. Well, I think there are some people who want to help you, even if they cannot. Doesn't that count for something?"

"No."

Oh, Liz was way out of her depth. Helping someone who firmly believed no help could be granted. Who had internalized his isolation and abandoned hope. This might be too tall of an order. Or maybe not. She was getting through to Severus, wasn't she? "So, forget help. What about a distraction? Draco, I assume you know some court dances?"   


He eyed her suspiciously. "Yes. What of it?"

"Will you dance with me?" she asked with enthusiasm, digging in her deep pockets for a music box. "I haven't had a proper court dance in almost a year, and I want to try doing the gavotte to a rock and roll song."

He eyed her suspiciously, but as the opening notes rang out, he offered one hand. When she slipped hers into it, he gasped, and she took her read. His aura was tinged with dark greys at the edges, and spiralled in the way she was beginning to recognize as occlumency.

She grinned and gave his hand a little tug, and that's how Draco Malfoy wound up dancing to muggle music with a half-blood on a summer afternoon.

_ "Polar Opposites" by Modest Mouse _

_ Polar opposites don't push away  
_ _ It's the same on the weekends as the rest of the days  
_ _ And I know I should go but I'll probably stay  
_ _ And that's all you can do about some things _

_ I'm trying, I'm trying to drink away the part of the day  
_ _ That I cannot sleep away _

_ Two one eyed dogs, they're looking at stereos  
_ _ Hi-fi Gods try so hard to make their cars low to the ground  
_ _ These vibrations oil its teeth  
_ _ Primer gray is the color when you're done dying _

_ I'm trying, I'm trying to drink away the part of the day  
_ __ That I cannot sleep away  


At the start of the outro jam, Liz stepped closer to Draco and smoothly transitioned them from stiff court dance to a sensual ballroom bolero. He took back the lead quickly, and he was good. His lead cues were precise and well-timed, and he knew just how much to vary the moves to keep her flushed but not panting. He even included one very dirty dip, hips locked close together as he gently tested how far she could arch her back. This made her feel a tiny bit guilty about never thinking to dance with Severus, and a small wonder at whether he would be jealous or be able to take it for what it was: one dance. At the end of the song, Draco bowed, and Liz curtsied.

"Ah," she sighed in pleasure. "This is my favorite part of being outclassed. Dancing is such a delight with a good lead."

Draco sighed, too, though his sounded more frustrated than content. "Yeah, whatever, Liz. I guess you were right about one thing. Distraction helped for a bit. This is probably the most alive I've felt since..."

Uh oh, he trailed off in that same way Liz might do when remembering a specific horror. "Draco?" She stepped in close again to hold his hand, the same one that held hers while they danced. He didn't react, just stared straight ahead again. "Draco, I'm sorry I have to go. Maybe you should go to your mother, and try to help her with running the household. Work can be a healthy distraction, one that I know well myself. Write to me when you want to dance again, all right?"

He inclined his head slightly, which she chose to interpret as a nod, and she made her exit.


	13. We Never Talk of Our Lacking Relationships

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: CONTENT WARNING. Dubcon blowjob for a man who is probably too tired from overwork to properly consent, from a girl who will have to address him as "Professor" in about six weeks.

#  P1Ch13 Playlist

When Liz makes especially questionable choices, it may have something to do with how she ignores her need for music. There are no named songs in this chapter. The chapter title is a lyric from "The Freshmen" by The Verve Pipe (1996), which you can listen to on Spotify at <https://open.spotify.com/track/21jEuMn2lf37715rwjow2M?si=7RiEX0caSfu5Aw-Mer4nBg>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 13: We Never Talk of Our Lacking Relationships

Liz hit the books hard, as hard as she could with her limited collection. 

The genealogy book was too abstract: names and dates and relations that Liz did not recognize and couldn't connect. That is, until she got to the most recent generations. The Black family was particularly interesting, as Tonks' maternal grandmother was related to her own through a chain of two in-laws, and Tonk's mother was yet another Black sister. When she retraced the line backward, she also found a split, six generations prior, when one of the British Blacks became a German Schwarz, and lo and behold there were Marlena and Werner at the bottom of that branch. Ah, the small world of pure pedigrees.

The trauma booklet was starting to make her angry. Intellectually she understood the contents, but emotionally it was still so raw and upsetting. She tucked it in the vanity drawer and decided to leave it there indefinitely.

Before she had left Severus' house, he had stuffed a few books into her bag on the topic of legilimency and other mind magicks. She had been honored to be trusted with these books, and pleased that he was trusting her to take on the research for the sex ritual to unlock her mind.

From  _ Gedanken der Götter _ , she penned a translation from the German: "When the gods created mankind, they had to bind the core of an individual to three distinct aspects of the person. The body, mind, and heart are tied tightly to achieve this. Unlocking truth requires opening all three. Open the body, then open the mind, then open the heart."

Well that was a promising start. The body, mind, and heart connection was a well-documented magical phenomenon. Countless rituals had been discovered while meditating over this triangle of power. It was the root of all binding magic, the three components which bound a human to their soul. She found another promising passage, but it was harder to translate.

"The truth is never complete[?]. Access and understanding are separate concepts. We ask the gods for both. We receive frequent [Often we receive?] access but not understanding. Understanding is where foxes say goodnight [???]. We must discuss and prove, from the basic facts to the complex theory. Discussion is essential[?]. Break the silence to open discussion. Break the silence by opening the body, mind, and heart."

Liz stared at the repetition of the phrase  _ break the silence _ . That had to be it. They weren't just trying to break the traps protecting her mind. They were trying to break the Silence curses preventing her from talking about her mind. About all of it. Body, mind, and heart. The real question now: How many of her Silences were in fact also protections on her mind? Any of them? All of them?

She was getting ahead of herself. First she had to check her translation. How fortunate that she lived with a man who made such tasks his life's work.

The office door was open, and Liz knocked lightly upon it before coming inside and dropping into the chair across from Thomas' desk. "Do you have a moment?"

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

She snorted, but then schooled her expression. Now was not the time for the nuance of such irony. "Actually I was hoping you could check what I wrote on the parchments I've tucked in this book." She handed it over.

" _ Thoughts of the Gods _ ? Oh, I see." He perused the first passage. "This is pretty good, Little Lizzy. The original is an uncommon old dialect."

"Thanks. I like German well enough to file parchments for your father-in-law. But it's the second passage I'm concerned about."

He flipped to it and frowned. Liz watched carefully as he double- and triple-checked the original passage. "That's a nice adjustment with  _ Often we receive _ . That sort of manipulation of phrasing to clarify meaning is a hard-earned skill among translators. This bit you've translated as  _ complete _ is maybe more like  _ full _ , but I don't think that changes the meaning much. And  _ essential _ is right, well done. But, the bit about the foxes is actually an idiom about being lost in the middle of nowhere. In the context of this passage, I would say the author means that you may never find full understanding, but you can try if you can talk it over with someone."

"Wow. It's almost too perfect. Open the body, mind, and heart. Access the secrets. Break the Silences. Talk through it. Yes!" She jumped to her feet. "It can be done! Thank you, Thomas." He held the book out and she snatched it back up. "I have some cross-referencing to do, but this is brilliant. Wiedersehen!"

Verifying the pattern proved difficult, but she found it in one of the other books Severus lent her. The power triangle was a different order: heart, mind, body. This one also implied that discussion was unnecessary. The requirement to 'open' the secrets was more like declaring intent. Liz pictured Severus crying out "Open, sesame!" as he legilimized her during an orgasm, and she just about lost it to hysteria.

She glanced at the clock. It was late. She was getting loopy. She yawned, and then she giggled again as the phrase  _ executive function _ floated through her mind. But her adrenaline was pumping and she wasn't sure she could sleep.

Time to dance. Liz fired up the music box to shuffle her favorite club mix, and she made a proper job of dancing to exhaustion. In the wee hours she crawled into bed naked and sweaty.

The new day brought with it another clear morning. That was three in a row, but this was the first that Liz felt just as clear. And it was Wednesday. Severus was coming tonight!

She holed up in her room through breakfast, scouring the books again and refining her notes. She tightened up her language, clarified her questions, and had just finished prepping it to present to Severus, when she realized she needed to get out the door to meet Healer Bradstreet.

That meeting turned out to be a disaster. Liz was rumpled and distracted. Healer Bradstreet was clearly more of a saleswoman than a mental health care provider. The facility was lovely. The staff was kind. The programming was engaging for all levels of function. Ugh. Liz tried asking specific questions about her mother, and Bradstreet just kept pointing at the animated brochure she had shoved into Liz's hands. The recordings Liz had already analyzed were marginally more informative than talking to the Healer herself, and Liz stomped away in a huff.

Liz wound up in Jason's office, pacing the tight space, and whinging about Bradstreet's incompetence.

"I tried to tell you that it's better to take care of your mother ourselves."

"Jason. Gods. If you ask me one more time to move in with you in Hogsmeade, I swear I won't be --"

"No, I never said that. I said we could open private practice together. I like you, and I wanted to date you, but I wasn't asking for a commitment like that. I've always wanted to run my own private practice, and you're the first person I thought could help me make it successful. It was a job offer. Bloody hell, Liz, not everything is about you."

She was properly ashamed of herself now, and she stopped pacing to slump into a chair. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me too. I have to level with you, Liz, I don't think we can actually cure Sila. I don't want to give you that kind of false hope. But I do think we can create a more comfortable space for her, hire some help, and make it a little easier for you to take her wherever you want."

Liz sighed. Since nothing else had come up, maybe this really was the opportunity she was supposed to take. For the first time, she gave it a real chance. "This hired help. Can they take care of the business? I don't ever want to touch an invoice. Ever. I don't even want to see one. That would be an on-the-spot dealbreaker."

"Sure, Liz."

"I mean it. Not even coding procedures."

"We can bill straight time, and accept donations, but you do have to keep patient records."

Liz nodded. "Did you have someone in mind?"

"I know a guy. Andy Adny. He even has startup funding. Says he wants to do something good with his wealth."   


"I need at least a day to think about it. I will also have to talk to my solicitor, and someone else I'm already in business with. Do not quit your job, Jason. By the end of the week, if you haven't heard from me, you should assume the answer is still no."

\------------------------------

Werner Schwarz was not in his office. She penned a quick note and slipped it through his secure dropbox, requesting a meeting the next morning.

The Blumwands were having lunch when she returned, and they greeted her warmly and asked her to join them. She dutifully piled roasted vegetables onto her plate, and she listened to Julia happily chattering about her new art teacher down the road. Thomas supervised today's lesson, and Liz learned that Master Sarad had white hair, a scratchy voice, wealthy patrons of his paintings, a beautiful much younger wife, and, most importantly, every kind of drawing and painting tool known to wizard-kind, except of course for Julia's new brush, which he found ingenious.

Julia did express some doubt about the Master's insistence that she learn to draw before diving too deep into painting. "The foundation skills," quoted Thomas in an impression of the Master's scratchy voice, "are much easier to master if your first tool is the humble pencil."

Liz smiled indulgently, but Julia pouted. "I don't even know what that means."

"I do," said Liz. "It was the same with music, when I had you start simply by clapping before I gave you real drumsticks. Keeping time is a foundation skill of drumming. Drawing must be a foundation skill for painting. I've been playing music for years, but I remember the first time I plucked the strings on a guitar. Yikes. I had a lot of work to do on foundation skills before I could really play a song."

Marlena was nodding enthusiastically as Liz said all this. Then she added her own take: "It was the same learning English. Pronunciation is a foundation skill of speaking. It took weeks before I could create an original sentence."

Thomas smirked, and used another impression voice: " _ The first draft is shit. _ " Three confused faces turned toward him. "Hemingway," he said, shrugging one shoulder. "Seemed to fit the theme."

Liz felt a chuckle bubble up from her gut. "Did Hemingway really say that?"

Thomas shrugged again. "Maybe. I think it was a quote in someone else's memoir. Doesn't matter, though. The point stands. The first time you try something, it's probably not great. It might even be absolute shite. But that just means you have to practice to get better at it."

Liz thought about this and her recent conversation with Jason Kayson. Could she manage to work closely with him, if she practiced more professional behavior? She bollocksed things up badly last week, but maybe she just needed to try again. Start fresh, but learn from her mistakes.

With this on her mind, she excused herself to get a quick nap before Severus arrived.

She only dozed an hour, but she felt much better. She opened the genealogy book again, but failed to find Andy Adny, or any Adny at all for that matter, among the wealthy purebloods. Liz decided to also abandon this book in the bottom vanity drawer, and then she peered out the window to find the Blumwands all outside.

It seemed to be a favorite past-time of theirs, enjoying the great outdoors of their own backyard. Thomas was lounging on a lawn chair with a notebook, but it was closed as he watched Julia play at climbing their oak tree. Marlena was inspecting every plant in her garden. The family scene made Liz's heart ache. She imagined one of the good nights at the Raven Witch, with dad tending bar, mum serving tables, and Liz on the stage.

She would never have that again.

Wiping fresh tears from her eyes, Liz turned away from the window and checked her appearance in the mirror. It had only been a few weeks since the attack at the Raven Witch, and so much had happened. So much that Liz barely had time to process, let alone cope with. She felt the exhaustion in her bones. She felt the ache in her heart. And she felt a frightening struggle to hold on to any hope. She wondered how much more she could take before she would become like Draco, staring into space as she re-lived traumas no one else could see. She wondered how much more she could take before she would become like Sila, completely detached from reality. She wondered if she might even reach a point like Bella, so overwhelmed by twisted rituals that turned her lusts bloody and violent. 

She also wondered if all the second-hand trauma was actually worse than her own. As a healer she thought she was accustomed to this dynamic, dealing with the aftermath of the most awful things that happen to people. But somehow lately it was amplified, coming at her through every relationship. Gods damn the Dark Lord for terrorizing them all, and gods damn Dumbledore for all the secrecy that made it harder to cope.

Wrangling these pains and fears and angers with a series of breathing exercises, Liz decided to go down and join the family outside. It was a magical neighborhood, so she should feel free enough about joining them without thinking too hard on her magical displays. Liz knew there were also serious wards on the perimeter. Marlena saw her first, and she waved from the middle of the garden. Julia spotted her next, and cried out, "Liz, come climb with me!" Thomas leaned far out of his chair to turn enough to offer her a smile.

Liz was not quite dressed for climbing, but it was close. Her leggings were modest enough, and her sleeved summer dress could be hiked up and tied off. She eyed the chair next to Thomas', and she almost begged off the climb, but honestly it did look fun, and the healthy pin oak looked beautiful.

Julia taught Liz how to apply simple cushioning charms to the branches, making it easier to step or sit. They compared techniques of strengthening charms to make it safer for the branches to hold their weight. While the basic forms of these charms were in Flitwick's first-year curriculum, Julia already knew advanced variants and practical applications. Liz made a mental note to include Julia in her next social call to Professor Flitwick. Liz had climbed trees before, but never with this level of safety or confidence.

Once she was satisfied with Liz's skill in the tree, Julia made up contest games. How many branches could you touch in a minute? The longest leap between branches? In between games Liz would climb to the very top, carefully selecting a branch to sit upon and looking out over Marlena's garden. She could breathe deeply the fresh air and feel a modicum of peace. For the rest of the afternoon, Thomas kept watching them with an indulgent little smile on his face. Marlena pruned roses. And the girls got to be girls.

\------------------------------

Dinner was relaxed but quiet. Liz savored the perfect pork chop, wondering if it was Lippy's work. She considered the small feeling creeping into her heart that this was her new family, recognizing that a big part of this feeling was guilt over replacing her parents in the domestic scene this afternoon. She wondered if the Blumwands felt the same way about Liz, who was staying in Sanja's room and playing with Sanja's sister.

These thoughts were timely, as the next thing Marlena said was, "Sanja wrote to us. She wants to visit soon."

All the good feelings from the afternoon came crashing down around Liz. The prodigal daughter returns. The imposter at the table will be exposed. "I'll make myself scarce," she said quietly, "so she can have her room while she's home."

"Nonsense," said Thomas, "You are part of this family now, Little Lizzy, and you need to meet your big sister."

Liz was frozen to her chair with tears swimming in her eyes.   


"Oh dear," said Marlena. "Tut mir leid, Liebkind. Verzeihung! The supper table was not the right place for this announcement!"

"Besides," said Thomas, "I'm sure she'll want to stay with  _ Benjamin _ ."

The way he said this name was so full of disdain it pulled Liz out of her funk. But the table was silent. Marlena and Julia looked at their plates. Marlena quietly but forcefully said, "The supper table is absolutely not the right place to speak of him."

Liz picked up her napkin just to drop it on her plate, despite the last few bites of pork tempting her. "Excuse me."

Thomas followed her to her room. Sanja's room. Whatever. Still feeling like she didn't belong, Liz stopped in the middle of the room and hugged herself tightly. Thomas came right up behind her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Little Lizzy," he started.

"Please don't," Liz said, crying again. "My daddy called me that."

"I'm sorry, Lizzy. I'm sorry this is all so hard. We don't want to replace anyone. I am not your daddy, and you are not my Sanja. That's all true. But, Lizzy," He paused to gently turn her around and pull her into his embrace. "I still want you to be my adopted daughter."

Liz sobbed.

"Sweet Lizzy, you are so powerful, but you are still so young. I'm not your daddy, but I think you need one. I can't replace Markus, but I can stay up late worried about you, and I can take better care to make you feel welcome here."

"It's just not home, and I don't know why I feel this way. I've hardly even been home in six years." Liz took a few great heaving breaths before continuing, "This is the best home I've ever had, the most normal family, but it all feels so wrong. I don't belong somewhere comfortable. I don't belong in a normal family. I belong out in the scary world where everyone gets hurt and needs me to fix them. You don't need me that way. Your family is wholesome and wonderful and doesn't need me at all."

Thomas held her tighter. "You belong right here, Lizzy, as long as I have any say in it. And maybe we don't need you. That's fine, Lizzy -- we  _ want _ you."

Her knees buckled, and Thomas caught her up and settled her on the bed. He sat next to her, stroking her glamoured hair. "Now I want to talk to you about a couple of important things, and I want you to understand that you are not required to help us, and you are not in trouble, and I am not judging you."

That didn't bode well, but Liz was too overwhelmed to say so.

"First, Sanja's boyfriend Benjamin is not welcome in our home. The problems started over a year ago, when Benjamin made a pass at Marlena and then lied to Sanja about it in front of all of us. He kept finding excuses to be alone with Marlena and even Julia, and I had to supervise any time he was here. But the last straw, the straw that makes Marlena reluctant to speak of him, is his influence on his brother. You see, Lizzy, Benjamin is the older brother of Corey Warrington."

Liz sat up straight and clapped her hands over her mouth, fighting the need to retch.

Thomas acted quickly, shoving her feet over the side of the bed and pushing her head between her knees. "Breathe steady, Lizzy, and it'll pass."

He was right, but once the initial nausea passed, she rose from the bed, skin crawling at the probability that Benjamin and Sanja had sex there. She compulsively smoothed her dress.

Thomas sighed. "If Sanja wants to stay with us while she's home, she can sleep on the couch. With a little luck, her time in Germany will have shown her what an unsuitable partner Benjamin really is. But, the message she sent us sounded more like she was going to give up her study of brewing and move in with him."

Liz was shivering but gaining control. She lowered herself to the vanity stool and clasped her hands tightly together, not quite wringing them. "Oh," she said, unsure if he was expecting a response.

"See? Not quite as wholesome and wonderful as we first appear. Sanja is in a tough spot. I was able to pay for her tuition and her flat last year, but I asked her to contribute this year and she reacted badly. There's a bit more to the story, but those are the essential details. Let me be perfectly clear: I do not expect you to solve this problem for us. I only wanted you to understand the potential for drama, especially as it concerns Julia. I hate to ask more of you, but I am hoping you will accept one task. If you see Julia in imminent danger at any point because of Sanja's relationship, get her out of that situation. If you can secure Julia, then Marlena and I can better deal with the fallout around Sanja."

Liz nodded immediately. "Absolutely. Hiding out is a specialty of mine. I'll even put together a few plans and run them by you on an increasing scale of security, right up to the unpleasant possibility that  _ you _ are compromised."

Thomas smiled. "Sometimes you plan so well. And other times it seems you go off half-cocked. Again, you don't actually owe us an explanation, but we have been very concerned about what happened with Healer Kayson."

She buried her face in her hands for just a moment, before straightening her spine and working up her nerve. "That's right. All I said was something about poor choices. I did have a one-night stand with him. That will not happen again. But actually just today he asked me to join him for opening a private clinic in Hogsmeade. I have some thinking to do. And I need to see Herr Schwarz as soon as possible, preferably tomorrow. And I'll have to have a hard talk with Severus tonight. I do not think he's going to be all right with this."

"And he's the last important thing on my list to talk to you about."

"Of course he is," Liz rolled her eyes, thinking of the negative reactions she had already gotten when she spoke about Severus to Werner Schwarz, Dora Tonks, and George Weasley. "Everyone is so concerned about how he treats me, and I'm so fed up with it."

"Not at all, Lizzy. I'm actually much more concerned about how you treat him."

That certainly got her attention.

"He is your professor, but he is also a single man in his prime, and he is clearly enamoured with you. Should I be worried about the times you are alone with him in this room?"

"Worried? No. Glad that I cast strong privacy wards? Probably."

He grimaced.

"Sorry. It's my natural response to unnecessary personal questions to be a bit flippant. It's either that or over-share, and I should guess you don't want that."

Thomas had a thoughtful look at this. "I understand that your touch is pure magic. It is obvious, even in our totally platonic hugs, that you are full of light magic. A man like Severus is going to have a strong visceral reaction to you. I feel a slight compulsion to reach out to you. Severus is probably overwhelmed by it. Although I have no doubt that you want him, I have to admit that I wonder if you have been on the receiving end of unwanted sexual advances from other men."

"No," she lied promptly. "I mean, yes, of course, but not, like, assault. Just normal, er, bad pickup lines and suggestive body language. I did more or less grow up in a pub, but it was fine." This next bit she had carefully constructed a long time ago to be technically true, because the few unwanted touches she experienced were not about sex but about power: "Every sexual act on my body was welcomed and wanted. I think the light magic responds properly to intent. Like calls to like. I have purposefully tied my healing to my Siren's Song to make it so." She hesitated for just a second before adding, "If Severus is having a strong visceral reaction to me, it's because he, too, is full of good intentions and honest desire."

A long pause followed this explanation, and Liz waited patiently, happy for the chance to simply breathe and recover from this rollercoaster conversation. Finally, Thomas asked, "Will you be performing a Body-Mind-Heart ritual with him?"

Ah yes, he had helped her with that translation. The rest of the texts last night had been in French and English, and she hadn't needed the assistance. Liz thought carefully about what to tell him now. "Most likely, yes."

"Based on the passages you showed me, I'm assuming it's a curse-breaking ritual and not a handfast ritual?"

Liz frowned. She hadn't thought of that. "Are handfasts usually heart, then mind, then body?"

Thomas nodded.

Nice. That explained the other passage she used to verify the triangle. They were two different classes of ritual: curse-breaking versus handfasting, based on the order of the sides of the triangle. She wondered if the other four permutations had whole classes of rituals.

A strange look crossed Thomas's face. "Should I order a banquet?"

Her thoughts had wandered a bit there making other connections, and it took Liz a moment to figure out what he was asking. "Oh no! Gods, no!" She could not help laughing. "No. You were right, it's a curse-breaking. The handfast order just explains something else."

"Are you familiar with the traditional handfasting that many purebloods still do?"

She shook her head slowly.

"There's a part of the ceremony that symbolizes the re-forming of familial bonds. The couple arrives at the altar tied to a parent by the red ribbons of blood. Those links are cut, although the scraps are still tied to each wrist. The handfasting concludes with the various bindings of the couple to each other." He paused for just a moment. "The words of the ceremony are all about replacing old ties with new bindings, clearing out old debts with new promises, and driving out old hate with pure love."

"So," Liz asked, "historically, wizards have used handfasts as curse-breaking rituals as well?"

"Exactly."

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed."

She needed a second to think about it, and whether or not she knew any power-triangle rituals that failed to result in a strong new binding. She had a vague memory of such a curse upon Suloos, and how he did not wish to speak of it. Perhaps that Silence  _ was _ the binding involved in his curse, and he was reluctant to trade it off for a new one. With this thought, Liz declared, "I will not bind Severus to me just to break my curses. I am sure he has enough magical compulsions, oaths, and gods-know-what binding him and forcing his hand."

"Good," Thomas said, smiling gently. "That's really what I was worried about, after our chat yesterday. But I'm not worried any more." He looked over her shoulder. "All yours, Severus."

Liz jumped up in surprised delight as Thomas made his exit. She didn't have time to be ashamed of failing to lock, or even shut, the door during that difficult conversation. Severus swept past Liz into the room, and Liz quickly assembled her privacy wards, thinking how he must be excellent at listening near keyholes to have his current role as a double agent for light and dark. "How long were you listening?" she asked, leaning back against the protected door.

"Somewhere around the question of a banquet."

She grinned sheepishly and stepped toward him. "I meant it when I said I won't add to the bindings that burden you."

He looked so tired, and the pain in his eyes was heart-wrenching. "Persephone, it might just break my curses too."

She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his shoulder. "Oh, Severus, I would absolutely marry you, if that's what you really want, but we are getting ahead of ourselves."

His arms came up around her, loosely. He was trembling when he asked, "Why wait?"

Liz leaned back to look at him. His eyes were unfocused, and his breathing irregular. "Are you all right? No, I'm sorry, that was daft, you are not all right. Sit down, Severus."

"Yes, my lady."

Now she knew something was very wrong. He sat on the bed, and she on the vanity stool. "This isn't right. I am not one of your masters. I might ask you for things, but you don't take orders from me."

"Why not?" he whispered, "You give them easily enough." He crossed the few paces between them, sank to his knees, and laid his head in her lap. "And yours are rather more pleasant than theirs."

Shit. Liz didn't know what to say. It was incredibly unnerving to have this powerful man in a position of subservience. It was terrifying what could happen if he was summoned by either of his masters right now. But he was close enough to read her physiological responses, so she breathed deep and even, lowered her heart rate by controlling her fear, and raised one healing hand to smooth the hair out of his face.

His eyes were closed, and the pained expression replaced by one of peace. He mumbled, "I've had enough of dark wizards and greater goods. I want to serve a White Witch. An Earth Priestess. A Soul Healer."

For a moment she simply continued to stroke his face. She thought she was getting a grip on what they had to do, and then he shows up like this. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She couldn't even talk to him like this. She needed her witty lover, not an exhausted servant.

He was falling asleep in her lap. That made things easier, at least right in this moment. She had made this promise to Dumbledore, after all...

"Severus, it's time to sleep. Come on." She hauled him up and deposited him on the bed. She pulled off his boots but didn't bother with his clothes. He was snoring by the time she kissed him on the cheek, and then she stole out of the room, leaving up basic privacy alarms behind her.

Liz found Thomas and Marlena in his office, arguing quietly over a parchment. "Sorry," she said, hovering in the doorway. "I could come back later."

"No, Lizzy, come in," said Thomas, glancing briefly at Marlena. Whatever was in that look, Marlena completely understood, because she nodded and took her leave. Liz marveled at this exchange, wondering if someday she'd have a partner so in tune with her.

"Thank you," she intoned, stepping into the room.

Thomas relaxed back into his desk chair. "I didn't expect to see you again so soon. I thought you and Severus had a lot to talk about."

"We do," Liz said, dropping into the guest chair. "But he was dead on his feet. I told him to sit down, and he started talking about the pleasant orders that I so easily give. He said, er, oh gods I want to get this right. He said,  _ I've had enough of dark wizards and greater goods. I want to serve a White Witch. An Earth Priestess. A Soul Healer. _ " She gestured broadly in her confusion. "Why would he call me an Earth Priestess? I think I actually understand the rest of it, shocking as it is, but Earth Priestess?"

Thomas leaned back and steepled his fingers. Then he abruptly stood and scanned the titles of the books on the side wall shelf. "Aha." He plucked one from the stacks and handed it to Liz. "This is a book on the social traditions of British and European wizards. While Severus is catching up on sleep, you'll want to catch up on the old social structure around covens and champions."

"Covens and champions?"

"The coven is a group of witches, with an elemental Priestess to lead them. I might have guessed Water for you, myself, but if Severus thinks you are an Earth Priestess, then you probably are. He is already, no doubt, your Lead Champion."

Fascinated, Liz waited for Thomas to continue.

He sat back in his chair. "The ruling power of covens and champions fell apart with the International Statute of Secrecy. It was no longer necessary to protect magical traditions in coven and cult mysteries. But there are still many among us, especially the purebloods, who would recognize the skills and power necessary to collect a coven and command champions."

"Yes. And they still exist in some places." Liz thought of the Moon Priestess she herself had served, and the men she had called  _ defenders _ . "There are even some prominent ones, right? The Parisian Healers Association was a coven that served a Water Priestess. I served her myself, unofficially, for about a month. I didn't know anything about the champions, though."

"Most likely they served as security and stewards. This book details many possible roles for champions, but every coven is unique. Some have been more democratic than others, but ultimately, as Priestess of your coven, Lizzy, your word is law."

Liz sighed. "It's already forming around me, isn't it? Severus is my Lead Champion, as you say, despite all my bluster about not wanting to bind him. You're a champion of mine, too, aren't you?"

He smiled kindly at her. "I believe you also speak fondly of my father-in-law, and Professor Flitwick, and a friend named Riley…?"

She nodded.

"See? You have already collected at least five potential champions. That's more than enough, should you decide to rally a formal coven. The real question, Lizzy, is who serves as your Sisters?"

Liz had to give it a moment's thought. "I expect Julia is too young. Probably just Cissy and Tonks, but I know they have plenty of their own problems, not least the family drama  _ between _ them, and they don't need the burden of serving me."

"The book also details many possible roles for the coven itself. Your word is law; you set the purpose. If you say the coven is formed entirely for its own protection by the champions, that would be historically consistent with many old mystery cults. Repairing broken families would also be historically consistent with the ruling covens, and, might I say, of direct benefit to you, too."

Now that was a promising purpose. Repairing broken families sounded like a kind of healing that Liz had never done before, but would do wonders for many souls. Maybe she would need to dig the genealogy book back out of the drawer.

"That's more than enough to think on for now, Lizzy. Go back to Severus. Work your soul magic. We can talk again tomorrow."

Liz nodded. "Thank you, Thomas. I am so lucky to have landed here." She stood to leave, but hesitated in the doorway. Summoning her courage, she said quietly, still unsure, "Markus Althea was my daddy, but maybe you could be my father, after all."   


Liz made a quick stop at the loo and was disappointed to find that she was still bleeding. Curses and rituals aside, she wanted to be fresh and ready whenever she could get close to Severus. She did not turn on the light when she stepped back into her room, for she didn't want to wake him. She'd been living there just long enough to get to the closet by feel, and she cast  _ lumos _ to see her options and select a tight camisole to replace her summer dress, choosing to keep the day's leggings as nightwear.

She doused the light, allowed her eyes a moment to adjust, and then crept back toward the bed. He had not moved from the place she had left him, but this narrow bed was really too small to join him without disturbing him.

Retrieving one of the pillows was rather easier, so she took it and dropped it on the floor, about to try to make herself comfortable. She'd slept on plenty of floors. This one was carpeted, at least.

She jumped a mile when she heard Severus say, "What are you doing?"

Huffing lightly, she nonverbally spelled a bit of ambient light into the room, picked up the pillow, and tossed it at his face. "I was trying not to wake you. Budge up, love."

He seemed pretty groggy, slowly pushing the pillow back in place and shifting a bit to make room for her.

She slipped onto the bed and stretched out next to him, leaning on her left elbow and using her right hand to play at his collar button.

"We should talk," he said, his smooth voice paced for some urgency.

"Hmm yes, we have much to discuss, but first we should sleep," she insisted.

"There's not enough time. We must --"

She put her fingertips gently over his mouth. His eyes narrowed but she would not be cowed. "Severus, no. You scared the shit out of me when you came here earlier. You can't function without sleep. If you don't take the time now, we will both pay for it dearly later. Do you even know what you said to me? What you implied?" She withdrew her hand, laying it flat on his chest, expecting an affirmative response.

In the silence that followed, Liz felt his heartbeat under her hand, pitter-pattering far too fast. So close to him, she could feel his shallow breath puffing onto her skin. He had a chill about him. He was also tense, every muscle touching her down the side of his body cramped tightly. She gently assessed his overall physical condition, concluding that he was probably not actually ill. He was really a strung-out bundle of nerves, and the creeping darkness at the edges of his aura seemed stronger than usual.

Dumbledore had been right. Severus was in desperate need of rest. He had come to her tonight for peace. She should provide.

"In the morning, love, let's talk about what I can take off your plate. I'm already making progress on the seduction ritual. I can take point on researching the Healer's Gift. And we can go over anything else that I might be able to do for you, work-wise. I should be reducing your burdens, not adding to them." She paused to buy herself a moment to think, wanting to say the next bit just right. If he believed that she gave pleasant orders, then maybe she could take it from pleasant to pleasurable. She smiled gently at him, slid her hand back up to his collar button, and said, "For now, there's something else I want to do for you."

He didn't object when she began unbuttoning his clothes, so she went all-in, kissing his mouth and jaw lightly while reaching to find each button by feel. Final button un-done, she simply waved her wand and spelled his clothes into a neat pile on the vanity stool. His breath hitched with the sudden exposure, and he trembled.

"I've got you," she whispered, caressing his bony shoulders, and then dropping one last suckling kiss on his lower lip.

Then she slowly kissed her way down his throat, hand creeping ahead like a guide on her oral journey. While her hand tickled the dusting of hair around his navel, she licked at his collar bone, and then planted wet kisses on the old scars she'd discovered the last time she had him shirtless.

He was no longer chilled. Quite warm, actually. So she drew herself just a bit lower and blew gently over his chest. He whimpered as his damp skin shivered with goosebumps.

Her right hand slipped down the side of his hip and rested on his thigh, and she drew her left elbow closer for better support. She nuzzled the soft skin of his stomach and said, "Now, love, I've done this before but everyone is different. You can tell me what feels good, and what doesn't, and what you want me to do again, or anything else." And that was more than enough of a speech, when her mouth had more important things to do.

She started with her hand on his balls, kissing the sensitive flesh where leg joins hip, breathing deeply his musky scent of spice and darkness. He already had a full erection, and she licked it slowly with the flat of her tongue from base to head, then swirling once around before kissing the very tip.

Severus shuddered and bucked his hips once, clenching both hands in the sheets.

Liz lifted her head for just a moment, purposefully trailing her hair over his pelvis while she asked, "Do you want to hold my hand?"

He managed to croak, "I don't want to break it."

For being so thoughtful, Liz took the head of his penis to the back of her throat and mumbled, "Mmmm hmmm." The groan this elicited from him made Liz want to strip off all her clothes and climb on top of him.

They were both in desperate need of sleep, so Liz decided to keep it short. She shifted her body between his legs and used one hand on his balls while the other gripped the base of his shaft. And then she got to work, licking, kissing, and sucking, until he came, pumping his hips and emptying his semen into her mouth.

She let most of it dribble right back out. She wasn't necessarily opposed to swallowing, if he asked her for that in the future, but she wasn't a fan of the sensation, and cleaning charms were not recommended for getting sticky cum off the back of one's throat. She took off her shirt, knowing it was a gloriously soft fabric for the job, and gently wiped up their mess.

Now topless, she slinked back up Severus' body and nestled into her favorite spot under his arm. She reached for her wand, having discarded it on the bedside table after undressing him, and she flicked it once to pull the thick blanket over them.

They didn't say anything, but he held her tightly for a minute. Liz waited patiently, and she felt his tension drain, his muscles un-clench, and his breathing deepen. Finally, finally, they could sleep.


	14. I'm Learning to Fly, But I Ain't Got Wings

#  P1Ch14 Playlist:

There are no named songs in this chapter. The chapter title is a lyric from "Learning to Fly" by Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers (1991), which you can listen to on Spotify at https://open.spotify.com/track/17S4XrLvF5jlGvGCJHgF51?si=LPKAvqRuQXq6SbJWWwM_Zw

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv

#  Chapter 14: I'm Learning to Fly, But I Ain't Got Wings

She woke to the slight rustle of fabric as Severus got dressed. The first rays of sunrise were creeping in the window, and Liz sighed as she stretched. Then she giggled and she sat straight up, unashamed at her free breasts and disheveled hair. "Putting on your armor?" she teased.

He glared.

She smirked.

"Get dressed."

She slowly shook her head. "Let's talk."

He turned back to his task, almost finished. Just a few quick twists of his wrist to finish the buttons, and then he even reached for his boots.

"Severus," she said sternly.

He paused, with one hand still outstretched, apparently waiting for her to continue.

She stood up, slowly and deliberately, stood right in front of him wearing only yesterday's leggings, and took both his hands in hers. She snaked them around her own bare back, left them there, and reached up to his neck, over its high collar, to pull him into a kiss.

He obliged. Thoroughly. He made the slightest moan, and she realized he could probably still taste himself on her. Hot. But they had so much to discuss. She couldn't get distracted now.

"Good morning," she said. "Let's talk  _ while _ I get dressed," she compromised. Stepping into the closet, she called back, "You just can't keep going at this pace. Let's start with what I see as the easy one. Have you gotten any more pressure about seducing me?"

"No," he said. "I have expressed careful reluctance to be ensnared by sex magicks, and both of them have given me higher priority tasks, although the Headmaster did ask a question that might have been relevant. Something about breaking unspeakable curses."

"Ah, good. I do think it's tied to breaking the Silences." Liz could feel her jaw clenching just talking about it in this abstract sense. She stretched it gently while choosing a deep green robe to wear over a light green summer dress. 

He didn't reply, so maybe he was feeling it too. When she emerged from the closet, fully dressed, he was standing right in her path, holding a book. 

She took it and considered the runic title. It wasn't any of the alphabets they learned in Ancient Runes at Hogwarts, but it was maddeningly close to Norse Runes. _"_ _ Curses of Sound ?" _

_ " Curses of Speech _ _."_

"Ah." She flipped it open to find each page as a spread, with the original runes on the left and the modern English on the right. "Excellent. This is perfect. I have some notes already, but I will work on this before bothering you with it. I want you to leave it be, unless you get inspired. This is entirely my task now."

He hesitated, but then he nodded.

"I also want to take on the Healer's Gift. I'll need all of your notes and sources."

Silence met this demand. He was so still, and it gave her an uneasy feeling. Usually if needed to buy time to think, he would pace.

Whatever the issue, she didn't have time for this. "Problem?"

"Persephone," he started slowly, "This is a very advanced potion with very little information."

"Ah, you don't think I can do it."

"No, I don't think you can do it."

Liz took a deep breath and looked inward. She had to admit that when it came to potions, she was never exactly his best student, and he was most definitely the Master. "Fine. I still want the notes and sources. The next time you come here, bring them and expect to walk me through it. Then we can decide if you need to do it, or if I can help. I expect you to leave it alone until then. We haven't even discussed how we are going to use it, so it's not crucial to complete it right away."

His body shifted in a subtle way that Liz recognized from her own habits, like he would have preferred to pace and think. Too bad. She considered the matter tabled, and she didn't want to argue. He could follow her pleasant orders or not, and there wasn't much she could do about it.

She quickly moved on, "What else is keeping you up at night?"

"Besides your tongue?"

She smiled warmly. A decent night's sleep brought back some of that sarcastic wit she had been needing from him. "You can have that any time. Did you finish the rest of Madam Pomfrey's inventory, or can I take that on, too?"

"It's done. All preparations for the school year are complete. In fact," he gestured toward a parcel that he must have brought with him last night. "Here are the supplies I promised for you."

"Thank you. Now, what of your guest?"

"Still a nuisance in my house. I prefer not to sleep with him lurking, so I rarely sleep there."

Liz pursed her lips as she considered the real meaning of what he just said. "Do you mean, you rarely sleep, full stop? Please come here, even if it's just to slip in bed beside me for a few hours. I think Thomas is starting to understand your importance to me, and I can make sure you are free to come and go." She paused and smiled shyly. "I do wish I could come to you. I understand that I can't, but it meant so much that you welcomed me when you could."

He reached for her, and she bounded toward him in delight. Being welcome in his arms was more than enough, and she bent her neck to bury her face in the front of his robes, breathing deep. Clove, cinnamon, allspice, and something distinctly and deeply  _ him. _

"Please get more sleep, Severus. You really did scare me last night."

"I am sorry," he rumbled, tucking her under his chin. "And I am more sorry that I don't remember it clearly. Did I really suggest breaking both of our curses by a handfasting?"

Liz nodded. 

"Let's not."

Her smile on the outside did not match the utterly crushed hope on the inside. With all the courage she could find, she promptly replied, "Agreed."

He squeezed her tightly, dropping a quick kiss on her crown. "And, about serving you."

"Yes. I can try to be all of those things for you, Severus. Your White Witch. Your Earth Priestess. Your Soul Healer. I want to be what you need. I don't want you to feel like you have to take orders from me, but if this is what you want, I can try to live up to the responsibility. I can try to be a witch worthy of such a champion."

He drew back just enough to raise his hand and touch her face. She reveled in his caress, as well as the velvety smoothness of his voice as he lectured: "The history of covens and champions are in the 7th year curriculum, but if I recall correctly, you are not sitting History of Magic at the N.E.W.T. level. You will have to study independently. Others might say it's a tradition that's been dead longer than Binns, but there are some who still practice, and you'd be wise to watch for them in Narcissa Malfoy's social circle."

Barely keeping her opinion of Professor Binns to herself, she replied, "Thomas lent me a book, and he seems to know a thing or two about it."

Severus nodded his approval. "The last Earth Priestess to teach at Hogwarts met an unfortunate end in 1974. I believe Minerva was a Sister in her coven. If you do not wish to speak with her on the matter directly, I could ask if she has any resources for a new Priestess."

Liz considered how awkward it could be to have more alone-time with McGonagall, and weighed it against asking Severus for this favor. He was the one who brought it up, so, "Yes, thank you. Speaking of books, my mother's diary. I was going to have you take a look at some passages, but I think it can wait. It has waited this long already. But I still have no idea what is supposed to happen on the thirty-first."

"If it's a more personal event, I'm not sure we can predict it at all, but it's safe to say that both the Headmaster and the Dark Lord have canceled all plans for that date at my subtle insistence."

"Thank you, that is a relief. I'll fix up my notes and try to figure out more precisely what to do about the illegible passages -- oh!" Liz had a sudden thought about how to test one theory. "Those passages must be related to the Si -- " And there it was. The compulsion to clamp her mouth shut. She nearly bit her tongue with the way her jaw snapped up. She must look mad, so pleased with herself but unable to speak. She extracted herself from Severus' embrace and danced a tight victory circle around him while massaging her face and neck. "OW!" she shouted, when she could finally open up again, and then cackled in glee.

_ Stunned _ was not a common expression on the face of Severus Snape, but there it was.

"Sorry. I need, er, to think carefully about this. Don't worry. This is great."

His expression now neutral, he said, "If you say so."

"I do. Now, things that might not be so great. Jason Kayson has asked again that I open a clinic with him in Hogsmeade. He has made it clear to me that he does not want the committed relationship that I thought he wanted. I am going to consider his offer, but I wanted to give you the chance to object now, before I take it to Herr Schwarz."

They were both standing in the middle of the room, and the silent pause that followed was unnerving. Finally, Severus asked, "Hogsmeade?"

"Yes. You see why I think I should pursue it." It was not a question.

"I do not object. But I must say, this conversation, the pace you keep and the confidence you have addressing action items... feels just like the way Sila always ran board meetings."

Liz's breath caught.

"You will do fine partnering with Healer Kayson in business. If you could also learn the business for Fatin's Looks, that would take some responsibilities from me."

Uh oh. He knew exactly how and when to ask for this, to make her want to do it for him, even though she most definitely did not want to do it at all. She could feel herself curling inward emotionally. Her physical reaction might have also been to curl up, right into the fetal position, if she hadn't been on her feet. 

"You've been distant with Marlena. Talk to her today, and then talk to her father about both."

All she could do was nod. She couldn't even look him in the eye, her gaze sliding down to his boots. He must have put them on while she had been in the closet getting dressed. She knew she should be focusing on what Severus was saying, but awkwardly examining his boots was much less painful.

"Persephone, I know you are unsure about filling Sila's role, and we do not expect you to do that. But if you really want to lighten my workload, you should at least understand how much of it goes to running a business with your name on the majority share."

"Of course," she whispered, eyes on the floor. 

"Another option is selling your share to Marlena. She has expressed some interest, and I have already delegated many tasks to her. Again, you need to speak to her about it."

"Right," she said, shaking out of the funk that descended upon her at the notion of replacing her own mother. "Right," she said again. "I'll speak to Marlena today." May as well try to embrace a bit of the role now: "Next item. I had a social call to Malfoy Manor yesterday."

"Narcissa wrote to me afterward, extolling your virtues and describing how Draco engaged with household duties for the first time in weeks. Well done."

"Did she tell you how I broke him out of his melancholy, if only for a moment?"

"No."

"Oh, Severus, the aristocracy is so full of unnecessary pomp and drama, but one thing they always seem to do right is mastering the dance floor. The gavotte and bolero are only the beginning. I intend to go back and find out what else he knows, to draw him out more and to further ingratiate myself with Cissy."

One elegant raised eyebrow was the initial response. But then it lowered, and both creased with his frown. "The bolero."

Liz shrugged. "What would you pick to dance with me?"

"But this was your choice with him."

"It was the right choice for the song and the moment. Draco needed blood and adrenaline rushing for something good and fun, not whatever made him shut down like a zombie."

"When it comes to her son, Narcissa did not recruit you just to heal him. And sex is not medicine."

Liz laughed a cold, empty, barking laugh. "You dare say that after last night?" She didn't wait for a reply, or even pause long enough to expect one. "And you think Draco doesn't understand what his mother is trying to do? Here's the reality, Severus. Draco doesn't want me, not even as a friend, and even if he did, he is only a patient to me. Music and exercise  _ are _ medicine, very powerful medicine, and I will use them as appropriate."

He drew in such a great breath that Liz was certain she was about to be shouted at. But then he let it out slowly, smoothly, and he said calmly, "As appropriate. As if anything about any of this is appropriate."

"Yes, well, we've been over that already, in this very room, haven't we? We are doing the best we can." She waved a dismissive hand, "And I only wanted to inform you that I'm going back to try again, as soon I have another invitation. Do you require me to have a chaperone, or will you trust my judgement?"

"Narcissa is the one who suggested you are an Earth Priestess. Study Thomas' book before you go."

Liz decided to be grateful for the tip, rather than upset that he wouldn't give positive affirmation of her judgement. "Thank you. There's just one thing left that I needed to ask you about."

This was the tricky one, as far as Liz was concerned. The rest were a matter of reacting to the things that happened to them and strategically cultivating a network of potential allies. This one, however, was about doing right by her new friend without upsetting her lover. Oh, hell, she wasn't stupid. She knew he was going to be upset.

"Maybe we should sit down," she suggested.

He didn't.

She did, perching on the edge of the bed. "I would understand if you want no part in what I'm about to suggest, and you don't have to decide now. In fact it might be better if you took some time to think about it."

He sneered. "Sila always did this, too, saving the worst for last."

Was he trying to distract her? He knew she was disturbed by any notion of replacing her mother, but she needed to keep her head. This was important. Friends are important. "I want the two of us, me and you, to go on a date, a double-date, actually, with Tonks and Lupin."

The fury in his eyes made Liz wince.

But she had to get the next part out before she lost her nerve. "Or would it be better if I asked George Weasley? He wants to date me, too."

This time he shouted at her. "No! Bloody hell, Persephone, you knew I wouldn't like this at all! And throwing in another rival, to boot! This has been difficult enough! As much as I hate that monster -- and, Merlin, you know I hate him -- do you think acting like a slag with Weasley will endear you to them? Kayson! Malfoy! Weasley! Tease them all, will you? Or are you not really a tease, but a liar? A cheater!?"

She had expected him to be angry, and she thought she could take it, but she couldn't help the single tear that slipped down her cheek.

He either didn't see it, or didn't care. He was on a roll. She finally pushed the wrong button, and the floodgate opened. "Your hands might be magic, but you need to learn to keep them to yourself! Your voice might be magic, but you need to learn when to shut up! Your sex might be magic, but you need to learn to keep your legs closed!"

"That's enough!" Liz shot to her feet and stood toe-to-toe with him. Looking in his eyes meant tipping her head up, but he couldn't tower over her metaphorically. She was the power in this room. She chanted in her head:  _ My word is law. My word is law. My word is law. _

Fortunately, he was quiet while she pulled herself together.

Finally, she was able to start, quietly, but firmly. "I will let you know when the date is scheduled. You will respond promptly, or I will ask George to accompany me, as a friend and escort. It is true that you have good reason to doubt me, and I have already expressed my regrets on that score. I do not want to hear about it again. You must trust me, or not. That is your problem, not mine."

He took one step back from her, bumping back against the vanity.

"Is there anything else we need to discuss?" she asked.

"No."

"Good. We both have work to do. When will you be back?"

"I don't know."

"Fine. You know where to find me." Then she turned her back on him and shoved her hands between her face and her glasses, holding her eyes shut to keep from crying until he was gone.

But he didn't go. She heard him shuffle his approach, which she knew was entirely for her benefit, as he was perfectly capable of silent steps. Then she felt his hand on her shoulder.

She shrugged it off. "I can't talk about this anymore."

"I am sorry," he murmured, close to her ear.

Liz reconsidered what she had just said. Was there anything left to say? Maybe. She lowered her arms and straightened her spine, but she could not yet turn to face him. "I will do all the things I said I would do. I will study our curses; I will cultivate our allies; and I will attend our businesses." She sniffed. "All I have asked of you is to give me more tasks, get more sleep, and come with me on a date. Still, I feel like I am not doing enough, and that I ask too much. And then you say such horrible things to me. What am I supposed to do, Severus? How can I give you what you need?"

"You do," he replied immediately. "Goddess Persephone, you always have the comfort I need. You are my only peace."

She hated this power. She hated this pedestal he put her upon. But most of all she hated both Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord Voldemort, for isolating both of them and  _ making _ her the only peace Severus could find.

As she tamped down her rage, Severus dropped to his knees behind her. "Please forgive me."

"Oh, Severus." She finally turned, wiping her eyes roughly. "Of course I forgive you. But I cannot do this right now. And I cannot pretend that you didn't hurt me. And I cannot be a goddess."

As if kneeling wasn't enough, he prostrated himself on the floor and kissed her feet.

All her rage for all their troubles rose up stronger than ever. "Severus! I am so angry right now. It's not all directed at you, but if you don't want to be kicked like a dog, get up."

He leaned back on his heels, but he still bent low, exposing his neck. She barely heard him say, "Maybe I deserve to be kicked like a dog, for barking at you like I did."

She didn't qualify it this time. "Get up. That's an order."

His head snapped up in surprise, but then he scrambled to his feet.

"Take off your boots. Get back in bed."

He seemed about to protest, but changed his mind. He complied.

Liz was relieved, but suddenly felt the need for another kind of relief. "Sleep. I'll be back in an hour or two, and I expect you to be in this bed with your eyes shut." Without looking to see if his eyes were already closed or not, she snatched up the book on covens and champions, and promptly bailed.

After relieving herself at the loo, Liz slowly crept down to the common living space. It was still early, and she expected everyone to be asleep.

She sprawled herself across the sofa, and she read.

Thomas was the first to come down. She saw him in her periphery, waved at him, but did not take her attention away from the book. He dropped a parchment on the side table near her head before slipping off to the kitchen, and she paused her studies for just a moment to see that it was post for her, from Herr Schwarz, inviting her to pop in any time this morning. Perfect. Back to the book.

It was captivating, this dance of society long forgotten. Pockets of magic had been scattered all over Europe and the surrounding seas, formed around Priestesses of Air, Water, Earth, Fire, Moon, Sun, and Stars. Adult witches could join the coven as Sisters, and when a Priestess died or abdicated, the coven would elect or appoint a Sister to replace her, regardless of the element for the individual witch. Some covens protected the mysteries of their element and rarely selected a Priestess of any other. Some covens did not last long, formed around a witch with a particular agenda and rallying Sisters of any element, disbanding their membership to neighboring covens when the goals were complete. Others grew too large and split, multiple strong witches rallying their own champions for their own purposes.

The champions served in many possible roles. Some Priestesses raised military armies of champions, while others only required minimal security. Champions had served as advisors, laborers, consorts, everything in between and then some.

The champions served of their own free will, but some legends held hints at binding rituals meant to ensure loyalty. Liz wondered if the Dark Lord had bastardized the Dark Mark from one of these. She wondered about the original Death Eaters, pureblood wizards rallying around a leader who embodied the Sun element, powerful and eternal, drawn to him in the same way their ancestors had been drawn to the Priestesses for centuries.

Liz started to wonder if maybe, since the International Statute of Secrecy, there had been more dark lords like Voldemort and Grindelwald, forming dark cults in the absence of the covens. She also wondered about her new friends among the wealthy old families of purebloods, and just how many of them would, as Thomas put it, recognize the skills and power necessary to collect a coven and command champions.

Thomas slipped back into the room and came around to sit by Liz, who made room on the sofa by pulling her knees back. She finished the paragraph she had been reading and set the book, still open with pages down, on her chest. "How do you wish to serve?"

The protocol section was paying off already, for Thomas smiled and replied, "As I have been. Paternal Advisor and Head of Household."

Liz carefully picked up the book, noted the page number she had left off, closed it, and sat upright. "I accept your service," she said, holding out her hand in the formal witch's greeting. He took it, completing the symbolic ritual, and Liz added, "I do not actually expect to rally a formal coven until I have finished at Hogwarts. But in the meantime, I will indeed rely on your advice and participate as a member of your household."

"I approve this course, Priestess."

"I do have one formal request to make of you, as Head of Household. May I please invite my Lead Champion and Consort, Severus Snape, to sleep in my bed as needed? He often cannot sleep at home. It is driving him batty, and I fear that will put us all in danger."

"I would prefer to give him his own room, but alas this house cannot accommodate another. For now, yes, he may sleep in your bed. If Sanja comes home, too, then I will look into alternative residence for the lot of us."

"I will be seeing Herr Schwarz today on business. I will ask him to coordinate with you to establish a Household fund from my accounts. I should have done this already, Thomas, when I first moved in, and I'm sorry I have been too self-absorbed to contribute here."

"Not at all, Priestess. We have a little laid by, and we do not consider you a burden. We consider you family, Lizzy."

"Then allow me to contribute this way. I am, really, filthy rich. I can put us up anywhere you want to make a home, or you may use the funds here any way you please. You should also feel free to use it on any costs for any member of the family, even Sanja's tuition."

"No, that is not necessary, and not appropriate."

"She is my big sister now, or so I've heard. Please consider it. Even if you hadn't more-or-less  _ adopted _ me, I think it is justified if it will help you run the Household in any way." Liz held up her hand as he started to protest. "My champion, as Head of Household I trust you to act in the best interest of the Household."

Thomas was quiet for a moment. Then he changed the subject. "You don't normally study down here. Is your Consort still upstairs?"

She smiled. Her Consort. Thomas recognized Severus as  _ hers _ , and it was a heady feeling. "Yes. At least, he had better be. He was under strict orders to get more sleep."

"I cannot imagine he took it well."

"Oh, we quarreled this morning, for certain, and about more than just that." She gave Thomas a pleading look. "He needs to sleep. I intend to convince him to spend the whole day in that bed. But you should probably not be surprised if he comes down shortly with a bad attitude."

Thomas laughed. "You just tell him the role I have taken. He may outrank me as Lead Champion in most things, but he'll understand not to tangle with me inside the Household Residence."

Liz nodded and stood up to stretch. "I should probably go back to him now, to check on him. What time is it anyway?"

"Nearly eight."

"Good. Thank you, Thomas, my champion." She gave a shallow curtsy and bounded up the stairs.

Severus was not just asleep, but actually snoring. He had taken his orders seriously. Liz was pleased, but she was not careful enough in the dark room, and she tripped over his boots. She heard the bed squeak lightly as he jumped, and she expected that her current position face-planted on the floor was probably safer than in the line of fire.

After a moment of silence, the candles in the room flickered to life. She slowly picked herself up off the floor and saw Severus sitting up on the bed, slipping his wand up his sleeve. "Sorry," she murmured, dropping heavily onto the bed next to him. "I really did not mean to wake you."

"I have a busy day. I need to go."

Liz made a big show of her deep breath and long sigh. "I do not want to fight again, but I do want to insist that you stay and sleep again."

"No."

She nodded. "All right. I am going to trust you to take care of yourself. I am going to trust you to do what you need to do to serve well. How do you wish to serve?"

His eyes dilated, and his breath caught. It seemed he did not expect the formalities so soon.

Liz figured she should explain a bit more so he would understand what exactly she was asking. "I am not establishing a formal coven yet. I wish to finish my studies at Hogwarts first. But I  _ am _ rallying a few key champions. It is my wish that you serve as Lead Champion and Consort."

He visibly and audibly gulped.

She waited.

"That is how I wish to serve."

The solemn promise in his voice gave her pause, and she took a moment to let the gravity of their commitment press upon her. Then she said, "I accept," and kissed him soundly. Both of them were a bit flushed when she finally pulled back. "You should know, Thomas is my Paternal Advisor and Head of Household. Do you know what that means?"

"Yes."

"He has agreed to allow you to sleep in my bed as needed, until he can figure out a way to give you your own room. Welcome to the Household, Severus."

He raised one eyebrow. "Could it be so easy?"

"Probably not. But we can try." She slipped her arms around him and gave him a quick squeeze. "My Lead Champion, there is a lot of work to do. Let's have a productive day, shall we? And then tonight I would like to see you again, if it is convenient for you."

"Yes, Priestess."

\------------------------------

After Severus left, she opened the book again and finished her first read-through. She would have to give it another go before she saw Cissy again, but the protocol section was rather illuminating on the origins of some pureblood traditions. The aristocratic purebloods still hosted debutante balls reminiscent of the celebrations for a Sister joining a coven. The Parisian Healers Association held a similar event annually to induct members.

She was so lost in the historic connections, finally making some sense of the various rituals she'd experienced in her life, that she completely missed the opportunity to catch Marlena before work.

No matter. She would go there after her first stop. Herr Schwarz was working at his desk when she arrived. "Kom mit, Fraulein," he beckoned.

"Danke schoen," she replied, taking a seat across the desk from him. "I have come to discuss business. First, the easy part, I think. Every time I think about getting involved in Fatin's Looks, I just freeze. I can't. This was mum's company, and I just... I can't. Severus said that Marlena might buy if I wanted to sell. What do you think?"

"Yes, she has already spoken to me on this. I have no objection. Fatin's Looks has always been a sound investment since your mother first brought it to me. You should speak to Marlena about how she intends to manage the company with an ownership share, and then set an appointment to come back here, both of you, to work out the details. I would suggest you keep a small share to retain a personal investment, but consider selling just enough to give Marlena majority."

What a relief! This is exactly what Liz needed. "Sounds good to me. You'll hear from us soon. Next. I have an opportunity to open a private practice clinic with another healer, Jason Kayson, and he wishes to set up premises in Hogsmeade, hire help, and generally run an operation sophisticated enough to provide residential care for my mother."

Herr Schwarz took a moment to consider. Then he said, "I have wondered, since the incident on the eighth day of July, if I would have the dubious honor of handling some sort of malpractice insurance, or even a civil defense case, on your behalf. But I'll admit I did not expect you to become tied down to a new business venture."

"Honestly, I have mixed feelings at best, but I believe there are some powerful people who would see me installed somewhere in Hogsmeade."

"Ach, even more reason not to sign over too many rights or commit too much."

"Agreed," she said, smiling brightly. "It has occured to me to ask for straightforward employment. But I need to know more about things like malpractice insurance to negotiate properly."

"Sehr gut, Fraulein."

They spent the next hour studying parchments, compiling a list of requirements to accept a job in private practice, and discussing negotiation tactics for this situation. She even had a thought of looping Jason in on a test for their new financier, and composed a short letter to send through Herr Schwarz's postal outbox. When Liz was satisfied, she asked, "Your real-time assistance would be invaluable. May I invite Healer Kayson and Mister Adny to complete negotiations here?"

"Allow me. I'll make a very serious, urgent, and professional impression on Herren Kayson und Adny. Shall we suggest tomorrow afternoon?"

Liz offered a conspiratorial grin. "Yes, Jason is expecting my response by the end of the week, and I prefer not to wait. I want to see how prepared he really is for this."

"That's what I like most about working for you. You make a choice, and you rarely change your mind, so it is easy to make swift progress and gain the upper hand in any situation. That's why I am surprised you have not yet brought up your coven. When I received a note from Thomas this morning, I was sure it would be the first thing on your mind."

Her grin morphed into a serious straight face. "I rather thought it was better to leave it for last, to avoid any awkwardness or hurt feelings if we do not feel the same way about it. I so depend on your expertise, and it would be tragic to damage our relationship. Werner Schwarz, how do you wish to serve?"

"As I have been. Ways and Means Advisor. You should not have worried, Fraulein."

"Then I accept, danke schoen! As Ways and Means Advisor, you need to understand the full structure and even the potential resources. It's not formal at all yet. I wish to finish at Hogwarts before I rally Sisters, but I have two in mind already. Thomas and Severus are the only other champions I have accepted, but there are two or three more that I may ask later. In the meantime, I wish to provide resources to Thomas as Head of Household, including everything he needs for my new extended family. You are aware, of course, of my relative wealth. I wish to set up an account with an ample investment and annual deposit for managing an extended household. You should meet with Thomas to discuss an itemized budget, and then I want you to double the sum."

"That would be slightly inappropriate."

"No, it is exactly what I wish. My only question is whether my Sisters and champions should receive some kind of compensation for service, and for Thomas in particular whether his salary should be included in the Household fund. The sources I have are vague on the topic." 

"That may depend upon the purpose of your coven and the needs of your champions. For Thomas, he has sufficient income already, and it is more than enough considering you wish to provide for the Household. For myself, I intend to continue billing my standard fees to your Gringotts expense account. As for Severus, his share of Fatin's Looks should provide ample income, but I am not privy to the details of his pocketbook. The duty falls to you, Priestess, to find out what he needs and provide it. Did I miss anyone?"

"No. And that all sounds quite right. Then, would you please present the appropriate paperwork for me to sign to grant you permission to view all of my transactions and balances across all accounts at Gringotts, as well as Gavivis."

She so rarely surprised him, and it was a genuine pleasure to see the shocked look he bore when he realized she had an account at Gavivis of which he did not know.

It actually made her feel better, to know she had a bit more power and wealth than he expected when he expressed his desire to serve. She put on her most arrogant voicing when she asked, "Is there a problem?"

He quickly recovered. "Do you have a contact at that institution, or do you find time to go to Egypt?"

"No, actually, I've only been once. Every new year, right on January 1st, a representative tracks me down to ensure I am receiving adequate through-service from Gringotts. The goblins at both banks have a tight relationship, and they even have a transaction service so that I can make withdrawals or deposits of galleons for my Gavivis account here at Gringotts. In the rare times I do, Sorayo at Gringotts facilitates the through-service."

"Sorayo. I suppose I have seen that name on deposits in your Gringotts account. Got it. Anything else?"

"I believe that is everything. Until tomorrow."

"Auf wiedersehen."

\------------------------------

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Liz showed up on the premises of Fatin's Looks to find Marlena. "Mister Trace," she greeted in the entryway.

"Welcome back, Mistress Althea. And it's just Trace, if you please. Professor Snape taught me at Hogwarts, and I can't quite handle being  _ Mister Trace _ around here! Shall I show you to his office? Or are you back for Mistress Siladora's again?"

Trace's impression of Severus' threatening drawl put a smile on Liz's face. "Er, no, Trace. I'm here to see Marlena Blumwand."

"Oh, certainly. Right this way."

"Actually, first, do you have a minute? In private?"

"Yes, Mistress. Let me just..." He flicked his wand at the main entrance to put up temporary closing signage and lock it. "Let's use the conference room."

It was a tight fit to get the eight chairs around a small table, but it reminded her of the conference room at Herr Schwarz's office. Trace waved his wand and six of the chairs stacked neatly in a corner, so they could have more legroom with just two.

Once seated, Liz got straight to the point. "I was told to ask about the effect my mother had on this place. I should probably get an answer before I sell the share."

Trace paled. "Sell?"

"To Marlena, probably. She wants it. I don't. This is mum's company. She is in no state to run a business, so Marlena and Severus are going to have to run it without her, and without me. I just can't."

Color back, Trace said, "No, of course you can't. No one could replace Mistress Siladora. She built a family, here, and she was the head of it. But, Mistress Althea, you could have, and should have, become a part of this family. We were all waiting patiently for you to finish school."

"A family," Liz repeated, quiet and sad. "She had some strange notions about family."

"She had a perfect vision of a crew that worked together closely and believed in what we created. She could inspire you to become the best, and provide what you need to achieve it. Master Snape is the best Potions Master in Britain, and he only needed an investment in the best ingredients. Mistress Blumwand was already the best warehouse foreman in all of Europe, and Mistress Siladora was also grooming her for marketing."

Hoping he was not going to list everyone, Liz interrupted, "And you?"

"I darn socks."

Liz blinked in surprise.

"I see wear and tear before it destroys us, and then I fill the holes, tie up loose ends. Mostly I keep the press away and watch the doors."

Impressed, Liz considered how useful a man like Trace could be for any business. "Somewhere between Security and Public Relations," she summarized.

"And anything else that isn't getting done around here. Master Snape is a dab hand with protection spells, but I pick up the rest. And as for P.R., our products speak for themselves, though I consider it my duty to keep it that way."

They shared a grin before dropping into a thoughtful silence.

A minute went by, and then Trace said, "Thank you for coming by to explain your intent. It also highlights just how lost we are without Mistress Siladora, and that's something I need to know to do my job well." He sighed. "I miss her, and I'd like to see her. Much as I appreciate working for Master Snape, it's Mistress Siladora whom I would have followed anywhere."

Liz nodded. "I could authorize your visit, but I'm also working on a couple of options to transfer her to a place where I could get her released to come here, and other places that mean something to her."

"A different kind of healing."

Smiling, Liz said, "Yes, exactly. And healing is what I am best at. And music is what I  _ want _ to be best at. These are the reasons I cannot fill her shoes here."

Trace stood and held a hand out. "Then you should speak with Mistress Blumwand now. Good luck, Mistress Althea. I will follow up later about seeing Mistress Siladora." Then he escorted her down the hall, each lost in their own thoughts.

Marlena's office was a bright yellow assault on the eyes, but it was neat as a pin. She was leaning back in her chair, but sprang out of it to greet Liz. "Liebkind! So good to see you. Bitte, sit down."

Both ladies seated and Trace gone, Liz didn't waste any time. "I cannot be my mum. Not even a little."

Marlena took on a solemn expression. "No one has asked for that."

"Not, outright, I suppose. But, if I cannot contribute to running this business, then I need to sell my share to you, cheaply, in compensation for how you have been picking up my slack."

A short pause followed this statement, but then Marlena said emphatically, "Jawohl, das gut." She picked a quill up from her desk and spun it once in her fingers. "No doubt, my father will have loads of paperwork for us. He also knows better than I do how much your share is worth."

"Yes, and he has suggested we split it, enough that you have a majority share but leaving me a small investment. I'm not so sure I need to do that, but we'll see what specific amount he proposes, shall we? I don't need the gold, exactly. The only thing I really want, Marlena, is your assurance that you won't make work harder than it has to be for Severus."

Liz knew she couldn't really ask for this, and that she did not deserve the warm smile that graced Marlena's soft face as she said, "You have my word."

"Can we meet Herr Schwarz tomorrow morning?"

"I'll clear my schedule, and I will correspond with him to confirm."

"Danke."

"Bitte schoen. Now, Liebkind, I wish to tell you, that if you are rallying champions, and especially if you already have a Consort, then you really ought to have at least one Sister."

Liz straightened her posture and gave Marlena a searching look. There really was no mistaking the intent of such a statement, and Marlena was clearly anticipating Liz's response. "How do you wish to serve?"

Marlena's brilliant smile was almost as blinding as the lemon-yellow wallpaper. "Attendant Sister."

"Er," Liz began, unsure, as the book had not provided any specific titles for the Sisters of a coven, and Marlena was the first person whose role would actually change, rather than simply formalizing reality. "What does that mean?"

Marlena bowed her head briefly. "As Attendant, I provide whatever my Priestess needs, or perhaps find someone who can. If a Priestess was a noblewoman, you might describe the Attendants as ladies-in-waiting. My great-great-grandmother was a Fire Priestess with dozens of Sisters, including four Attendant Sisters."

It made a lot of sense for a powerful Priestess to have Sisters who acted as ladies-in-waiting. This was a concept from the aristocracy that Liz understood. The fluid role was rooted in both service to curry favor but also companionship for a woman whose rank did not allow more organically-formed relationships. A royal, for example, could not just pop in at the pub and have a drink with the commoners. 

"At this time," Marlena continued, "I am certain you will need help establishing your functional purposes, social causes, and mysteries. I am happy to advise you as you come into your own as a Priestess."

Mind made up, Liz held out her hands. "I accept, Sister."

Marlena gripped the proffered hands tightly. "My Priestess." She released Liz and leaned back into her chair. "First thing first. I can see why the others might think you are an Earth Priestess, but you are not rooted so deeply in the physical. You are a musician, Liebkind. Your song is the strongest magic by far, even more than your healing touch. I have no doubt that you are an Air Priestess."

"Thomas thought Water, actually. But I might have to ask an alchemist, or study alchemy myself." She realized she never asked Severus outright what he thought, after he said Earth was Cissy's idea. "And I haven't even considered the celestial elements. They are all too permanent. Everything in my life seems so temporary, fluid, and, er, airy. All right, you certainly have a point there."

Liz wondered at the indulgent smile on Marlena's face, one she had seen on Thomas many times already. The two of them were such experienced partners, it really shouldn't surprise Liz that they had picked up each other's mannerisms. As Liz mused over this, Marlena said, "The Air also carries the other alchemical elements. Ash, vapor, and dust influence the world through the winds. This is likely why the witches and wizards around you see the element they wish to see, or perhaps even themselves reflected by you."

She thought suddenly of her Sorting, back on that first night at Hogwarts, and how the Sorting Hat spoke of her flexibility to join any House. 

"Everyone has a core element of their own. Mine is Air, so I have my own bias. You are the only person who can identify your element and decide your most important Mysteries." Marlena changed the subject. "If I might make a recommendation regarding Julia?"

"Please do."

"She will be most unhappy if she feels left out of your coven. Ur-Urgroßmutter had a solution for this, as she believed 17 was far too old to begin learning the mysteries of Fire. She accepted Kleine Schwestern -- Little Sisters -- as young as 10, and she matched them with Sisters who could tutor these pupils in the ways of the coven."

"Brilliant."

"I think so, too. This is how magical education was passed through the ages before places like Hogwarts were built. Think about your element, and then we will talk again. Now, off with you, Liebkind, for I must get back to work."

"Thank you, Sister."


	15. Gonna Start a Revolution From My Bed

#  P1Ch15 Playlist

  * Title track: "Don't Look Back in Anger" by Oasis 1995
  * "Mayonaise" by The Smashing Pumpkins 1993
  * _Then she flicked her wand at the music box, requesting a soft rock playlist at very low volume_
  * _asking her music box for a white noise track of rainshowers and low rumbles of thunder_



Chapter 15 Playlist: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UqZ2B2NNASFIUyEXcw4qC](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1UqZ2B2NNASFIUyEXcw4qC?si=y7fvW0rvT8eGSCNbzoMYNQ)

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 15: Gonna Start a Revolution From My Bed

It was time to study again. Liz had so many loose ends to tie up, and she wanted to make more progress before Severus arrived again tonight. She thought of Ken Trace, and how perhaps she should learn to darn socks as well, whatever that really meant.

The highlight of the marathon study session was the new book,  _ Curses of Speech _ , which contained a stamp indicating its belonging to the Hogwarts library restricted section. She frantically copied sections of text by hand, all of it relevant to understanding what a Silence Curse could be, and how they could be broken. For good measure she copied both the runes and the English, just in case she needed to cross-reference or re-translate the original.

A large portion of the book was devoted to Tongue-Tie hexes, a kind of temporary Silence that was easier to cast and easier to break, but had countless variants to consider. Other types of Silences were meant to permanently shut up a single person. Some restricted a particular topic of discussion. Others, related to Taboos, were bound to the name of a person or thing and affected anyone in the vicinity of the caster. The more powerful the caster, the more powerful and wide-ranging the Taboo. The most intense class of Silence could be passed in family lines, restricting speech across generations. Liz rather suspected this is what happened to her mother and herself. Mildly interesting, but not quite relevant, this book also addressed a handful of potions, including Truth potions like Veritaserum and how they related to Compulsion hexes. 

Tucked on the very last page about Silences, Liz found what she was looking for:

_ The subtle communication of devoted companions transcends many barriers. Indeed, True Love needs only a soft touch or a quick glance to speak volumes. An admission of the heart is all that remains to break the Silence between two lovers who are already connected through body and mind. This is similar to the breaking of a Compulsion by the Kiss of True Love. _

There it was. Confirmation of the Body-Mind-Heart ritual. Join or open the body with an intimate act. Join or open the mind through legilimency. And then... "I have to tell him I love him," she said aloud to the room. Could she do that? Was it true? What would happen if it wasn't? Would he have to say it, too? She wasn't thick -- she knew they had only come together under extreme circumstances. Could she handle the likely rejection if he was forced to examine his feelings objectively? 

Was he worth it? Did it matter?

Aside from all that, she had another Silence problem: the diary. She did not expect any ritual with Severus to suddenly untangle the illegible bits.

Liz flipped back to a hand drawing she spotted in the margins near the information about Truth potions. It was three circles, of equal diameter, arranged tangentially into a triangle. Inscribed into each was an alchemical symbol. The bottom circles held Fire and Air. The top was the Greek cross representing all the alchemical elements.

She wondered who had drawn this in the book, and what this symbol had to do with Truth. And then she wondered: could Severus, perhaps, represent the Fire to her Air? She thought about what Marlena said about core elements, and the more she considered it, the more she was certain about the Fire inside Severus Snape.

Inspiration hit suddenly. She levitated the book so she could see the drawing while she danced. It was the dance Sila had done the last time Liz saw her. If she tightened the lines of the dance, sharpened the turns of the arm movements, yes, indeed, she was drawing these three elemental symbols in the air around her, and her feet swept around the floor in long, circumscribing steps. A full trio dancing these moves in sync would be something to behold.

She still didn't know what it meant, but the dance felt natural, intuitive. She was one step closer to understanding. And she even had a song for dancing along.

_ "Mayonaise" by The Smashing Pumpkins _ _   
_

_ Fool enough to almost be it  
_ _ Cool enough to not quite see it … Doomed  
_ _ Pick your pockets full of sorrow  
_ _ Run away with me tomorrow … June _

_ Try, ease the pain  
_ _ Somehow we'll feel the same  
_ _ Well, no one knows  
_ _ Where our secrets go _

_ I send a heart to all my dearies  
_ _ When your life is so, so dreary… Dream  
_ _ I'm rumored to the straight and narrow  
_ _ While the harlots of my perils… Scream _

_ And I fail… But when I can, I will  
_ _ Try to understand… That when I can, I will  
_ _ Mother weep the years I'm missing  
_ _ All our time can't be given… Back _

_ Shut my mouth and strike the demons  
_ _ Cursed you and your reasons  
_ _ Out of hand and out of season  
_ _ Out of love and out of feeling _

_ So bad… When I can, I will  
_ _ Words defy the plan… When I can, I will _

_ Fool enough to almost be it  
_ _ Cool enough to not quite see it  
_ _ Old enough to always feel this  
_ _ Always old, I'll always feel this _

_ No more promise no more sorrow  
_ _ No longer will I follow  
_ _ Can anybody hear me  
_ _ I just want to be me _

_ When I can, I will _

_ Try to understand  
_ _ That when I can, I will _

She was asleep when Severus finally came in, and he managed to slip through her wards without triggering the alarms.

It was a bit disconcerting, actually, to wake up in his arms in the wee hours. But that feeling was quickly replaced with delight that he actually came to her. She carefully stretched, to avoid startling him again, and she let her fingers play in the folds of the loose shirt he wore. She recognized the moment that he woke up, his breath hitching and heart racing just a moment before slowing back down. He did not move, and he did not speak.

Liz played a tease, sliding her foot up his calf.

He growled, "Go back to sleep."

She giggled. "Care to make me?"

"Minx. If I move from this spot I will not get back to sleep, and if I do not expect to sleep, I should not be coming here for rest."

"Ah. In that case," she wrapped her free arm and leg around him, squeezed, and then relaxed. "Sleep well, love. To be continued."

She listened to him breathe for a while, trying her best to keep her own body rhythms even and calm. She wasn't sure which one of them fell asleep again first, but he was certainly the one who woke first. By the time Liz was aware of the pillow he had dropped in his place, Severus was gone.

But it still smelled like him, and Liz relished it.

Once she pulled herself up and got ready, the morning sped by. Liz spent most of it in Herr Schwarz's office, reviewing the paperwork and signing over the rights and responsibilities of Fatin's Looks to Marlena. He had called upon another trusted solicitor to provide an objective opinion on the deal. Liz was pleasantly surprised to see Mr. Darmax, as he had also reviewed some of the intellectual property negotiations done in this office, on behalf of Professor Flitwick. By the time they finished checking and double-checking the final figures, Liz was ready to eat some lunch.

She asked Marlena to join her, and once again Liz found herself seated at Kakegurui, with Dave offering his flattery, flirting, and general good humor.

Marlena was delighted by the rouladen when it appeared before her. She took one dainty bite of pickle and beef, smiled brilliantly, and then said, "Oma told stories of  _ her _ Oma, the last Fire Priestess before all of our kind were forced into hiding. She led protests of this change, believing that the coven and cult mysteries were enough to protect us. She joined with a Water Priestess, and the two of them kept the coven culture strong for another fifteen years before she died."

Liz took her time thinking during the pause here, but kept chewing the perfectly tender beef, hoping Marlena would continue.

She did not disappoint. "They were, perhaps, a little too zealous, and they became feared. Both were members of the Schwarz family, and they became known as Die Schwarzen Priesterinnen."

Nodding slowly, Liz suggested, "I suppose such a title as  _ The Black Priestesses _ would have carried the same implication of dark magic as it does today?"

Marlena nodded. "And with the added secrecy of the new international law, the rumors became quite nasty, and that last year before she died was very hard on her. Oma said it was painful to listen to the whispers about _ Priesterin Schwarzes Feuer _ , when she had seen first-hand the light magic of Fire itself."

Liz was no longer tasting the food, despite the sour bite of the pickle. She was thinking hard. "This sounds typical among those of us who wield rare and mysterious magic. Even the greatest legilimancers on the planet are cautious about my mind. Countless lifelong healers have warned me against relying on my hands. The dangerous myth of the siren keeps me holding back the full strength of my song. And the soul magic -- that one really scares people." She smiled. "But I have come to understand that the Breath of Meditation is a Mystery of Air that does wonders for the soul, and anyone can learn it. When it comes to promoting the Light Mysteries of my Element, that's where I can start."

"Sehr gut!" In between bites, Marlena then asked, "Do you have any journals or notes of the magic you have studied? You may need to review what you already know, that you did not necessarily realize had anything to do with the Air."

Nodding slowly, Liz said, "Yes, actually. I have kept all my notes from school, and some from my travels. I will review them as soon as I can find the time."

"Now, your social causes. Obviously Ur-urgroßmutter had a major cultural shift to manage. You are not expected to take on such a large task. That would be more of a job for a cult of many High Priestesses banded together."

Thinking back on her first night learning about covens, Liz said, "Thomas mentioned protection of the coven itself. It's just you and me, right now, but that's enough that I want to formally assign my champions to the task."

"They will accept. And now you are thinking too small."

Liz shook her head. "Thomas also said something about repairing broken families, and that tugs at my intuition, which is one part of being a healer that I really embrace. But I need to think about it, and I'm a little scared of what I don't know about the Averys right now."

Marlena gave her an airy little laugh and said, "Yes, that's more the scope you need. Difficult, but meaningful, and you're the only one who can really lead the rest of us through it. You've already started, as well, instructing Vati to fund the Household, and what you said to Thomas about Sanja. Thank you, Priestess, for adopting her as easily as we adopted you."

She felt the warmth in her neck that meant she was blushing, so she shrugged and changed the subject, "The only other part of healing that I feel passionate about is sexology. Hogwarts could really use a decent health and fitness class with comprehensive sex ed that includes clear understanding of consent."

"Yes, it could," Marlena agreed, a dark edge to her tone.

"But I really hate the notion of getting political with the Hogwarts Board of Governors. Seems a little dangerous in the current political climate, and my Lead Champion has enough danger to worry about."

Back to the cheerful attitude, Marlena nodded her approval. "Another suitable challenge, though perhaps not urgent until we are more sure of your formal coven, mysteries, and causes. This is more than enough for now. Consider your causes carefully before you hold Court. You will also need to think more on whom to rally as your Sisters and champions."

"I have a few ideas, but I don't want to rally anyone else just yet, not until I understand everything better."

"I approve this course, Priestess."

Liz smiled. This was a clear line in coven protocol, with no room for ambiguity in its meaning, but she had a lot of discretion in how to respond as a Priestess. "Thank you, Sister. You attend me well. What is my Sister's desire?"

"Ach, nein, you have plenty to do already. I would take on more tasks myself before you consider formal rewards. Remember, Priestess, that we have all expressed a  _ wish _ to serve. That is the first and most important desire of all Sisters and champions. You can always be generous with giving us tasks and guidance. As our Priestess, you provide for those needs. But only when we have proven our worth may we dare to name our other desires."

They finished their lunch on this heavy advice, and they hugged briefly before parting ways.

When Liz stepped back through the front door to the small lobby of Herr Schwarz's office, she could hear him shouting from the conference room. "Und she will be most upset that you deceived her! I should turn you both out, now!"

Oh, that was probably not good, and she was tempted to go wait in the private office. She had never heard Werner Schwarz shout. It was disturbing. But she had to know why. She knocked and swung open the door.

And there was Jason Kayson, as expected, standing with his hat in his hands. He was the first one to see Liz, and the relief was evident in his expression. The face of Herr Schwarz was red from his tirade, but paled when he spotted her next.

And that's when Ashley Avery turned around.

"Oh," said Liz. "I see." She looked over his shoulder to her Ways and Means Advisor. "I need to speak with you in private, right now."

"Kiddo --"

She glared and shook a finger at her uncle. "You wait your gods-damned turn." Then she spun on her heel and stalked over to the office. When Herr Schwarz had locked and warded the door behind him, she took a deep, steadying breath and said, "Thank you, my champion."

He didn't seem to expect this gratitude, or how Liz approached and took his hand in both of hers. "Priestess?"

"I only heard the last two things you said, but you were exactly right. I am fuming, and I should probably cancel the deal right now. Your extreme care for accuracy and fairness is what makes you the ideal Ways and Means Advisor, and it even shines through when you are quite upset." She squeezed his hand and then released him. "But now that these men are here, I do have some questions for them, and, if I like the answers, we may still proceed with the venture. I would ask my champion to help me determine the truth of their answers."

"I expected you to take advantage of the chance to deal with Ashley Avery on your own terms, but I am not a legilimens like Severus."

Liz filed away this tidbit for later. It seemed, before, that Werner Schwarz was not well-acquainted with Severus Snape, but here he was, speaking of the man as if he'd known him rather well. Maybe they had a chance to talk already as champions to the same Priestess, and she wished she could spare the time to ask about it.

But it didn't matter in this moment. She said, "You understand  _ business, _ and they want to open a business on the strength of my unique skills. As we discussed before, I have all the power in the room, because I can walk away and lose nothing, and leave them with no way to continue. While we assumed that Jason would be honest and eager, I am fully expecting  _ Uncle Ash _ to lie to me." Liz paused just for a second to rub her hands together nervously. "I need you to take down facts and figures that can be cross-checked before signing on the dotted line, which I know you would have done regardless. The big difference now is that some of those facts will be related to my biological family, and I do not know enough about them. Assume nothing, and assume that I know nothing of my blood kin."

"A wise warning, Priestess, but unnecessary. When you accepted my service I began to study those resources as well." His kind smile made Liz offer one back to him, and then he continued, "The one thing you must know, that could be determined from public record, is that the Avery line has been nearly wiped out. With your mother in her current state, it is really just you and your uncle. He is Master Avery, the only man with any claim to that title. But you are next in the line. He is extremely vulnerable to you, and we have already discussed how easily you could outmaneuver Healer Kayson. If you had not walked in, I would have turned them away, not to protect you, but to protect them."

Liz lowered herself into the guest chair, considering what had really changed, if anything between yesterday and today. "Indeed, when I saw him, my instinct was to rake them both over the coals. Yet, nothing should really be different about the deal, unless they continue to be dishonest. Let us speak with them."

Herr Schwarz bowed. "Yes, Priestess."

She ran a hand through her hair and straightened her glasses. Then she drew herself up and channeled her inner Snape to select a pose. "Sufficiently intimidating?"

"Your appearance is only intimidating when you clearly show your confidence."

Liz smiled broadly. "Well, then I know just what to say to them first."

The moment they walked back into the conference room, both Jason and Ash were on their feet. Ash tried to address her again "Kiddo --"

But she raised her hand in a halting signal, and he stopped. She said, low and steady, "Master Avery, although I am generally fond of the many nicknames and endearments applied to me, we are here on business. In this office, I am Mistress Althea or Healer Althea. If you condescend to me, even with affectionate intent, this deal will be canceled and we shall never speak of it again."

She saw him swallow hard. "I am sorry, Mistress."

"It is forgiven." Liz swept up to a chair at the large table and sat delicately. Herr Schwarz pushed in her chair and then gestured for the other gentlemen to be seated across from them. Liz began the interrogation, "Well then, Master Avery, why the alias?"

"I do most of my business under that name. It is useful to have meetings like these begin with fewer assumptions."

Liz nodded. She herself went by so many names, it was difficult to judge him harshly for this. "Will you require that name on our contract?"

He smiled. "Yes."

"I do not know yet if that is acceptable. We shall see. Healer Kayson has indicated that you wish to be a philanthropist. I wish to hear, from your own lips, the reasons you want to fund a private clinic."

"Charity is on the list. Also, a reason to work with my niece. The rest of the reasons are less my wishes and more my duties to the private parties who required your healing services last weekend."

Liz blinked slowly and took a moment to think about how to say this in mixed company. Werner Schwarz probably understood, but Jason Kayson should be protected by ignorance. "You were coy with me that night. I let it slide so that I could focus on what had to be done. But you were planning this even before then, despite the Pink Parlor being sufficient."

"And I suspect we will call you there again, and again, long after this venture has borne fruit. The demands will be higher, and we expect to need discreet admitting privileges to a superior facility, but on a scale we can completely lock down. St. Mungo's is full of spies, and, worse, press leaks."

Liz pursed her lips. She had first-hand experience with the problems of spies and leaks at St. Mungo's. She needed a minute to think about that. "Healer Kayson," Liz turned her attention, and she could tell Jason was not pleased that he would be held to the same standard of formal address. He was probably also unhappy with having no details on the mysterious Pink Parlor. Too bad, although she might fill him in later. "I need the full circumstances of how you came to know Master Avery, and at what point you realized the name Andy Adny was an alias."

"Well that last bit happened just now, with Herr Schwarz taking us to task. When I tried to contact Ash about Sila, the response I received was signed by Mister Adny, with a title of personal assistant to the Avery patriarch. We met in person once, between then and now, when he expressed interest in opening a private clinic, poaching an experienced healer from St. Mungo's as well as the mysterious healer who acquired a position there without the standard qualifications." He looked down at his hands. "Since private practice was always a dream of mine, I did not think before I boasted about my own senior position, as well as having access to you."

"I see. This could be a major problem, Healer Kayson, if you are so easily manipulated. I do have to wonder if this is a pattern. Though it hurts, I have to ask: how much of your affection for me was genuine, in the days leading up to our dancing date, and how much may have been whispered in your ear, by someone who would have you believe all your dreams are coming true?"

When he did not respond, or even look at her, she turned back to Ash, doing her best to keep her expression neutral instead of sour.

"And what does the whisperer have to say for himself on that matter?"

"I didn't have anything to do with you getting sacked. Actually, the St. Mungo's spy problem must be worse than we thought, because I expected to have a lot more time to make arrangements while Healer Kayson got closer to you. Of course, that was also before I realized how comfortable you seem with... the man who escorted you to the Pink Parlor. I should have known there would be competition for your affection."

"Wait, are you dating someone else?" asked Jason.

Liz rolled her eyes. "Can we not go there?" She turned a pleading look to Jason. "I'd rather speak with you about that in a less formal setting, if at all." Then she glared at Ash. "My lovers are not your business, and toying with my friends is not acceptable. If you want something from me, Master Avery, then you will ask me directly, and I will tell you what you must do to earn such favors. I conduct business in the full light of the sun. Any further attempts to hide the truth, especially to deceive me, will be met with great new burdens and cold retribution. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

Liz gave him a searching look. Generally, pureblood etiquette required the full address with surname. The omission of the family name was reserved for family. His use of this shortened title was a subtle but potentially powerful deference to her as the matriarch of the Avery line. He met her gaze without any hint of what he meant by it. Quietly, Liz said, "We are going to require a separate conference to discuss family matters."

He grinned, and agreed, with feeling, "Yes, we are. The arrangement in Hogsmeade should allow it."

"The arrangement, yes." Liz ran a hand through her hair. "We should put a name to this business, and a mission."

Jason immediately offered, "The Healing Touch"

Liz fought for a serious expression as she came up with the tagline: "Be Touched To Be Well. "

Everyone's attention turned to Ash, who visibly squirmed. "Well, er, perhaps we can come back to --"

Herr Schwarz broke first, cracking a smile for the first time since sitting down, and shaking his head at Liz as he smirked. "You are cruel, Healer Althea. I did not realize when you gave me post for Healer Kayson that it would be for the sake of a joke."

"It was hardly a joke, Herr Schwarz. It was a test for Master Avery, and yet  _ you _ somehow failed it. How will he stand up to us when we, his healers, are united in something daft? Of course, at the time I schemed this, I did not expect his refusal to put his real name on the business." She turned a glare upon Ash. "You may hide behind your alias, but do not hide the truth when we require your input or approval. Though I expect to have a great deal of freedom and autonomy in my role, you are our patron, and we need your honesty."

Ash glared back at her. "Then I hope you have a better name."

"I came up with the mission: to relieve suffering, break curses, and save lives."

Jason added, "And when she wrote me of that mission, I could only think: Healer's Care Haven."

Liz smiled broadly, and Ash nodded. "That will do," he said. "Now can we get on with what you really need from me?"

"Indeed," she said, gesturing for Herr Schwarz to hand her the requirements they had already discussed, and she made a show of scanning the parchment. "One of my key concerns for establishing premises as a business is security. I understand you will handle most of the business operations, and I expect you will take on the role as Head of Security. To verify your qualifications, I will have an independent expert review your protocols before we open the doors."

The grin was gone, but Ash looked thoughtful. After a few seconds, he said, "Do you already have such an expert?"

Liz smiled. "Possibly. And if not, I'll get one."

"Make it fast. I already have a lease, and ideally we set up shop tomorrow."

Herr Schwarz scoffed. "That is not happening. Opening a health care facility involves an unseemly amount of red tape with the Ministry, and the lobbyists from St. Mungo's are also contacting me to intimidate us."

"But," said Liz, ready for this no-but-maybe tactic from their prep, "there is plenty of  _ setting up _ we can do over the next week while we establish the timeline for ribbon-cutting."

"You'll find," drawled Ash, "that we have a sympathetic clerk in the Office of Service Regulations. We can spend the weekend preparing as needed, and we can expect expedited paperwork first thing Monday morning."

Liz looked at Herr Schwarz with a raised eyebrow.

He shrugged one shoulder. "It wouldn't be the first time that a connection at the Ministry pushed my paperwork quickly."

"Also," chimed Jason, "once I feel secure in this alternate employment, I know exactly who to lean on at St. Mungo's to get them to back off."

Liz eyed him with curiosity. Maybe she had underestimated him, again. "Fine, for now let’s assume we can open the doors midday Monday. My next biggest concern is my mother. I will pay for her care in our facility, which I fully expect to fund our daily operations for some time. However, I do not know if we can have the residence ready by Monday. In fact, I want detailed notes from Healer Kayson on the amenities of St. Mungo's that I might not have been aware my mother receives, and I want one of you to do some reconnaissance at Mentago Home. We will study the competition, and then blow it out of the water. I will not authorize mum's transfer until I am certain that we are doing better than St. Mungo's, and preferably better than Mentago."

Jason said, "We should poach another healer from one of them. The selling point of Mentago is the daytime program staff that provide active engagement with the patients. The selling point of St. Mungo's is the affordable residential care with adequate overnight staff for those whose ailments don't keep to a schedule. We are more likely to achieve both of these with another hand."

"Trust will be the issue," said Ash, "for discretion of what else they might see in our clinic, as well as providing exceptional care without a lot of supervision."

Liz nearly snorted when Ash spoke of trust, but she did pinch the bridge of her nose and squeeze her eyes shut, remembering.  _ Much as I appreciate working for Master Snape, it's Mistress Siladora whom I would have followed anywhere. _ "I have an idea. Give me the weekend. If I cannot get the person I want, then we will need profiles on all the healers and medi-staff at both St. Mungo's and Mentago."

Herr Schwarz was writing notes and did not look up as he said, "I may be able to get those profiles by Tuesday."

Liz looked to Jason for his input. "I'm going to run out of good will at St. Mungo's about a day before, but I can't get them any faster, and I couldn't do it at all for Mentago."   


When Liz looked to Ash, he shook his head once, so she said, "All right. We should meet on-site again tomorrow evening, expecting to follow up on this. Supper at the Three Broomsticks, perhaps?"

Herr Schwarz shook his head. "We'll order in, so we are not overheard. I'll take care of that, too. With this schedule, we should probably meet daily, but we can start with supper tomorrow."

The rest of the negotiation went in a similar fashion, with one party laying out a requirement and another taking the responsibility. Sometimes they would push back, but no deal-breakers emerged. They didn't even flinch at the hefty salary Liz requested, despite having a severely limited schedule coming up during the school year.

Finally, Liz leaned back in her chair and said, "If there is nothing else, gentlemen, then I believe we can wrap today by examining the premises Master Avery has chosen in Hogsmeade, and we can expect to open the doors at eleven o'clock Monday morning, ready or not."

Herr Schwartz added, "I will double-check all of our forms and figures, and then collect signatures from each of you tomorrow."

They all stood, and Liz held out a hand for shaking on the deal. "Here we go again, Jason. Let's do it right this time."

He grinned and took her hand with friendly force. "I don't know, Liz, I thought we did all right the first time. Later we should talk about what I've learned at work since you left."

She offered him the barest of smiles and then turned. "Uncle Ash, I believe you have just employed a pair of healers to relieve suffering, and this endears you to me."

A brief flash of surprise appeared in his eyes, but he took her proffered hand gently and clasped it in both of his. "Kiddo, I know I have a lot to prove to you, but the family business is to collect talent for highly specialized ventures. That's a common thread my sister and I never lost."

Liz nodded, thinking of Fatin's Looks, The Raven Witch, and even her own business deals to license her inventions and other work. This drive to achieve success through rare magic was a legacy Liz was only starting to understand. Good thing she had a superb advisor. "Werner, thank you for your assistance today and always. There is a lot of work to do. Do you think we can do it?"

"Not everything will be ready for opening day, but enough to make an impression. Shall I enlist Marlena to speed up branding and marketing?"

She thought of how she was already planning to poach Trace, and what a burden it would be for Severus if Marlena was distracted. "Not at this time. I would prefer to stick to our plan of allowing our talent and services to speak for themselves, especially if we are not fully prepared to provide all of those services on Monday. Now, shall we go see the property?"

They flooed through the Three Broomsticks, ducked four doors down a side street off the main, and came to a narrow brick structure which stood two stories tall and twenty meters deep. The front door squeaked when Ash pushed it open, and he held up a hand to halt them. Drawing his wand, he cast nonverbally, and a glowing gold light shone from a trip wire.

"Booby trapped?" asked Jason, a sour note in his voice.

Ash was already waving his wand in a complex pattern, and in just a few seconds the light faded. "It was just an alarm ward. The landlord said he wasn't sure what protection spells he left active."

It had clearly been a while since anyone stepped foot in this space. The floor was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the otherwise empty rooms had their windows boarded up both inside and out.

But there was a lot of potential. The upper floor had plenty of room for private offices and a studio flat for Sila's residential care. The main floor would have a lobby and a handful of exam rooms. Ash and Jason were debating exactly how many as Liz determined the cellar door was ward-free, opened it, and coughed on the dust.

Herr Schwarz was at her side in an instant, casting  _ lumos _ behind her, to make the narrow stairs a little safer. When they got to the bottom, Liz grinned, the first time she felt optimistic about this plan. "This will be the pharmacy," she said. "Shelving here," she pointed along one of the long walls, before gesturing to the other, "and brewing benches on this side."

The others must have been drawn by her airy coughing, and they both stepped up behind her as she imagined what this long open room could become. "I'm rubbish at potions," admitted Ash. "but we've already set a budget for the pharmacy. Is it enough?"

Liz nodded. "I think so. I'm not bad at potions, myself. Jason, I assume you have the standard qualification for a healer."

"My N.E.W.T. score was only Acceptable, but it took an Outstanding O.W.L. to get to that level for Snape's class."

Grinning again, Liz said, "That's still what he demands for the privilege. Anyway, if we need something beyond our own skill, that we can't just buy, let me talk to him. We aren't too far off from the day I'll be sitting in his Potions class again."

Herr Schwarz spoke up next. "Somehow I expect him to sneer at the idea of brewing here. Let's get to cleaning."

Once the new premises for Healer's Care Haven was cleaned and basic security wards applied, Werner flooed with Liz to the Blumwands. Somehow, the sight of a man spelling himself out of a cloud of dust and soot put a less formal bent on her mental picture of him, and she no longer hesitated to use the given name of her champion. This feeling of familiarity was further cemented by the adorable way he embraced his daughter, shook the hand of his son-in-law, and then gathered up his granddaughter to twirl her around.

Supper was ready, and the lot of them squeezed around a kitchen table meant for four, Julia on a narrow chair conjured by Thomas.

Liz hardly ate two bites before she pushed her plate away. "I am so tired. Excuse me, I do not wish to face-plant into the potatoes. Good night." She didn't wait for a response, just slipped away to her room. She didn't undress, either, just crawled onto the pillows and dozed.

Marlena knocked some time later, waking her.

Yawning and stretching, Liz rose to lower the wards long enough for Marlena to come in with a plate. Liz was grateful, famished after the nap, so she stuffed her face while Marlena sat patiently at the vanity stool, examining the new look of the room since Liz moved in. Her curious eyes lingered on each rock band poster in turn, and finally the dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling.

Clearing the plate in no time, Liz conjured a small glass of water to wash it down, and then got to business while she had Marlena's private attention. "I know we already worked out our deal for Fatin's Looks, and now I have to be honest about something else I may need. I am sorry I did not think of it until today."

"How may I attend my Priestess?"

This put Liz in the right attitude to get to the point and nix the sugar-coating. "I need Trace. He adores my mother, and I need someone I can trust to be on duty at night, for her security and her care."

Marlena's normally gentle expression turned hard as she considered this. Then she leaned back against the vanity and said, "We rely on him during the day. We cannot simply let him go. But, you are right that he adores Sila, and he might be willing to take on both jobs."

Frowning, Liz thought of Severus, and herself, and the others who were overburdened by her needs. "I don't want to burn him out."

"Ask him about his residence. I believe he lives alone in London at present. Offer him a room next to Sila's. I expect he would take it. Then set reasonable duty hours with the assumption that he still works nine to four on weekdays for Fatin's Looks."

Liz nodded. "Yes, that could work."

"Have you asked Severus about this?"

She bit her lip and shook her head.

"I suggest you don't. It really isn't his business what Trace does off the clock. It's not mine, either, but I appreciate your hesitation at poaching our man."

"Thank you." Smiling at one problem solved, Liz changed the subject, "Marlena, today your English is suddenly improving."

Marlena rolled her eyes. "I came here nearly a year ago, and I still curse and cry in my native tongue, but once I got a dream in my head of owning Fatin's Looks, my father pressed the importance of this country's language of business and law."

Liz snorted. "This from a man whose file system is still German after, what, two decades, here?"

"The parchments are English, of course. Organizing in German is brilliant security. Intuitive to him, but obfuscated to prying eyes."

"Ah, I see." And she did. Even with a good translation charm, the longer it took someone to find their prize among the documents, the more likely they would trip other security measures.

Marlena was giving Liz that indulgent smile she had come to appreciate. "He is always thinking of our safety. Thomas is a good provider, of course, but Vati protects us all."

"Yes he does," Liz agreed, eyes dropping as she wished her own father had been so untouchable.

"And," Marlena continued, drawing Liz's attention back, "I think you impressed him today. After you abandoned your supper, he told us how you kept your head despite your uncle's ruse."

Liz chuckled. "I think he was angry enough for both of us. I'd never seen him like that before."

Frowning, Marlena said slowly, "Vati's anger is not to be invited. On the day Mutti died, they had quarreled that morning, and he has kept very tight control since then. But, today, a potential threat to his Priestess walked through his door, and I can imagine how that unleashed his temper."

"I have seen the picture he keeps in his office. Your smile is much like hers. What happened to her?"

She watched the grief change Marlena's face as she remembered. "I was younger than Julia now. Vati wanted to emigrate, and Mutti wanted to stay home in München. I knew they were fighting. I could hear them shouting. Personally, I think it is the greatest city in the world, and I would not have left if Sila was not so persuasive about enrolling Julia at Hogwarts." She sighed. "In any case, Mutti left to cool down, and she was struck by an auto. It was an accident in the muggle streets she liked to walk, and she died in the muggle hospital nearby."

Liz looked down at the empty plate in her lap. "I'm sorry."

"He felt so guilty that we stayed after all, but he was making contacts here, planning to relocate as soon as I came of age. And then he did, while I did not."

Smirking, Liz said, "I've been to your city, and I think I could easily fall in love with it myself. History, arts, business... pretzels and beer."

Marlena's laugh was light and pleasant, and it lifted the dark mood that had descended on the conversation. Then she rose, snatching up Liz's plate. "Get more rest, Liebkind. Vati says you will be very busy in the coming days."

"And he is right. Danke schoen, meine Schwester."

She napped again, this time stripping off all her clothes first. It was late enough she could have slept through the night, but for Severus arriving near midnight. He had come in without triggering her alarm ward, but she heard the slight squeak of the hinge.

Liz did not get out of bed, but sat up, pulling the blankets around her so she did not lose the warmth she had gathered. The light in the room was barely enough to see his profile, but she said, "You are a sight for sore eyes."

He began undressing, and he asked, "Long day?"

"Yes, and another one coming up tomorrow. I've had two naps, but I feel like I haven't slept in a week."

He did not reply, and Liz simply watched him strip, her smirk slowly growing along with her arousal. He kept his boxer-briefs, but was otherwise nude as he slipped in beside her.

She hissed. "You're freezing. Come here." Then Liz arranged the warmest spot of the blanket squarely over him before taking both his hands in hers and rubbing some heat into them.

He shook his head and pulled his hands back. Then he looked at her with amusement and planted both of his palms on her warm hips.

"Eep!" she shrieked, and then giggled, and then pressed herself close, slipping her arms around his shoulders, best she could while they were horizontal. "Where have you been, that you are so cold?"

He kissed her softly, and it would have been sweet, but his nose, where it pressed against her, felt like an ice cube. Then he murmured, "Brewing in a chilly dungeon. Necessary for the potion, or I would have cast a warming charm."

Liz re-arranged the blankets again to trap more heat while she nestled into her favorite spot tucked under his arm. Then she flicked her wand at the music box, requesting a soft rock playlist at very low volume, before abandoning her wand and glasses on the nightstand. Once settled, she sighed in contentment.

Severus reached with his free hand to rub her shoulder, which both soothed her strain and warmed him. "Persephone, tell me about your very first lover."

She tensed, having already told him that this was probably not a safe topic. She listened, for a minute, to the melody just barely reaching her ears, which helped her relax again. Then she insisted, "You go first."

Tucked as she was, she could not see his face, but she felt the way his hands clenched before relaxing again. "Fine," he whispered, before rumbling, "For most of my school days, I pined for a girl who would not have me, and when I lost even her friendship, one of my Housemates saw the opportunity to take advantage."

Liz frowned, but she did not get a chance to ask for details on the unrequited love before he continued.

"The first time was rather unexpected, and I am embarrassed to say that I lasted all of twenty seconds inside her, but she was kind enough to spend the next hour  _ instructing _ me on how to please her. She had some suitably nasty things to say about my wit and the better uses for my tongue. We spent a few weeks working on my stamina, before she grew tired of me. I did not love her at all, but she refrained from humiliating me in public, and I can look back in appreciation for what she taught me."

It was kind of a cute story, really. Liz only wished hers was so innocent and casual.

She must have been silent for too long, because he squeezed her briefly and asked, "Persephone?"

"Sorry, I might be a bit jealous. It just seems so, er, normal."

"Hardly."

"Extremely. Oh Severus, schoolmates learning the nuance of relationships and desires sounds lovely. My first, my first two, actually, were also more  _ instructor _ than lover, but that's where the similarity ends."

She shifted the shoulder tucked under his arm, to more easily lift her head and look at him. She gestured for her glasses, so she could see him better, and he reached them for her. Now that she could make out his features in the dark, she took a moment to really drink him in. His eyes were dark but soft, and the line of his mouth neutral as he gazed back. All his glamours were gone, except for the greasy hair, but she ran her free hand down the side of his face, gently tucking back those lank strands. She caressed his neck, and then let her hand rest at his collar bone, but far away from the old burn scar.

"I spent just one night with my first, the day after Semaki died."

Even in the darkness of the room, she saw the goosebumps bloom on his pale skin near her hand, but otherwise he showed no signs of anxiety at this admission.

"I did not want to let an enemy use my virginity as leverage to disable me, to break me like she was broken. My mother allowed me to believe that a safe sexual experience would protect me, but now I think she really just wanted to make swift progress on my seduction training."

Liz closed her eyes and swallowed hard, willing her focus back to the memory and not the taint of now knowing some of Sila's plans. When she opened her eyes, she took comfort in the steady gaze of her current lover.

"So she took me to a man who taught her about ritual sex, bedroom games, and where to draw the bloody line and say  _ no _ , both with others and oneself." She sighed. "He is a legilimens, and the protection of my mind intrigued him. He said afterward that he was aroused simply by the challenge of seducing a girl he could not read directly. But then he asked for my age."

Severus nodded slowly, a frown creasing his features.

"He was rather upset with mum when I said I was just fourteen. He said --" Liz paused and put on her best Japanese accent.  _ "Too old to begin as Maiko, and too young, by modern standards, for Mizuage. Sila-chan, that practice was outlawed decades ago for witches under seventeen!" _ Liz grinned. "And that was the moment I decided to trust him. I hardly ever saw anyone stand up to my mother, and this stranger was taking my side in a difficult tangle of dubious consent around a vulnerable girl."

Liz drew in a deep breath, considering how best to continue.

"Anyway, he sent her away, and then we talked. He noted my fit figure and asked after my sport. He was pleased that I could dance, and he played music for me. It was the perfect seduction, to loosen my tension and clear my mind. He was so patient and kind, and when he finally touched me, I was ready to accept any attention he wished to give."

She swallowed hard, unsure if she should really say what came next. 

"Afterward, he taught me a little about the magic of my Misty Place. We talked some more, and I sang for him. And then he dropped me on the steps of Madam Miku's Geisha House while he waited for mum back at his home. I remember feeling alone and betrayed, but he wrote a few days later to say that he was far too tempted to claim me and keep me, and he simply could not do that after I had shared the story of my friend being sold to her rapist."

Liz lowered her eyes to where her hand played at his chest. Unable to look at him, she had to ask:

"Do you understand, now, why I might envy your first time?"

"Yes," he murmured, gently lifting her chin to look at him again, hands finally warm. "Yes, Persephone, I do." Then he kissed her, slow and sweet, before taking her glasses and tucking her back under his arm. "Did you ever see him again?"

She buried her face in his shoulder to inhale his comforting scent before responding. "Yes, actually. He was one of the wealthy patrons of Madam Miku who always came to see me on the stage. Over the next few weeks, I saw him applaud every time I performed, but he never stayed to speak with me."

Severus squeezed her tight, but didn't seem to have a response.

"We'll have to swap stories about our next lovers another time…"

She was so tired, and emotionally drained, now, too. He might have said more, but she slept.


	16. Like a Rollin' Thunder Chasing the Wind

#  P1Ch16 Playlist

  * Title track: "Lightning Crashes" by Live 1994
  * _A four-piece orchestra was playing a waltz_
  * "She" by Green Day 1994
  * _a much lighter upbeat tune rang out from their strings_  




Chapter 16 Playlist: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/04wJWWQyMsLO3SC8EbYanq](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/04wJWWQyMsLO3SC8EbYanq?si=Q1xNQjy5RCqmZghOwvHc-w)

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 16: Like a Rollin' Thunder Chasing the Wind

Liz woke with the sunrise, but Severus was already gone. She might have been a little curt with her new family at breakfast, and she excused herself before finishing the meal.

Convening at Healer's Care Haven, her new partners in business quickly determined that they should split up the work. Werner and Jason took the first shift of major renovations, moving walls, painting, and planning furniture layouts. That left Liz and Ash to start at the apothecary. She was quite annoyed at the way Ash drooled when they passed the bakery on the main street, because he was not actually tempted by the heavenly smell.

It was only too obvious the way his eyes lingered on the backside of the witch cleaning the windows.

Drawing his attention with his name, she tried to keep her tone under control as she said, "Uncle Ash, I am still displeased with the weak subterfuge. We could have done this days ago and had a much easier time of it."

He waved a dismissive hand. "We got here eventually, and you have every right to be upset, but I think we are going to do all right."

She wanted to be upset. She  _ was _ upset. She wasn't entirely sure why, and that only made her more so. So Liz was already a bit testy when they determined that the apothecary in Hogsmeade was ill-equipped for their needs. "We should split up," she said. "You stay here and find out what kind of owl-order options we might have. I'll go to Diagon Alley."

He frowned, but before he could voice an objection, she turned on her heel and left him behind.

She spent the rest of the morning shopping, then stocking and brewing in her new pharmacy, while the men worked on the renovations of the floors above.

Jason came down at lunch, handing her a sandwich and cajoling her into sitting down with him. "Ash left an hour ago. He thought you might come up and be more sociable if he wasn't there."

Liz sighed and stared at her ham and swiss. "I wish I could control my feelings. I don't even understand them. If it was really anger at the Andy Adny deception, I would have that compartmentalized and dealt with by now. I'm used to having horrible shit thrown at me, and only enough time to identify the feelings and set them aside for later."

"Could it be," said Jason slowly, "that you are concerned about being disappointed in your only sane relative?"

She shrugged.

"Or that you'll lose him, too?"

Oh, that was some deep-cutting truth, all right, but she wasn't about to admit it. Saying it would make it too real. The closest she could do was to ask, "How could you guess that?" and then she took a savage bite of her sandwich so she couldn't say any more.

"My job at St. Mungo's meant I had to give the bad news to a lot of patients' loved ones. I used to try to keep in touch with some of them, but the ones that didn't blame me usually had some kind of fear of who would be next."

Liz scoffed, but she choked on her food and needed a minute to swallow and breathe again. This just gave her time to craft a more cutting response, "So to join the lot of detached healers, you abandoned us in this other kind of pain."

As soon as she said it, she wanted to take it back. When he severely grimaced, she knew that instinct was the right one.

"I'm sorry. Jason, please, I don't know what's wrong with me today."

He shrugged. "People in pain lash out. Surely you know that."

She snorted. "Better than most."

"Well, Liz, I'm not going to abandon you. When you want to talk about it, I'm here. For now, let me just say, I've spent some time, since you turned in your pager, working on an organizational chart of the St. Mungo's healers and administrators, with notes on the clues about who might be responsible for various leaks of sensitive information."

She took another bite, smaller this time, and chewed to buy herself a minute to think. "Can I have a copy?"

"What will you do with it?"

Smirking, she said, "That depends on who is leaking information to whom."

"The  _ to whom _ part is harder to figure. Some are definitely going to the press, since the tidbits I've heard from them wind up in the papers, but others are less obvious. If we can find a spare hour tomorrow, I'll show you the first draft I made, after you visited your mother on Tuesday. If you can come up with any plans for using this leverage effectively, then we'll look at my revisions and I'll make you a copy."

"Fair enough."

After Jason left her alone, Liz wrapped up her brewing for the day and rejoined the party upstairs. Werner and Jason had done great work. They all went up to the offices and flat, and the upper level was all done, except for Ash's office, when he returned to drop off owl-order catalogs and take-out.

Picking at her dinner with her chopsticks, eating about one grain of rice at a time, Liz filled her first order of healing potions, wondering if she should have Severus look it over. More sensitive potions she would want to brew herself, unless a Potions Master could vouch for a retail supplier.

"Liz? Hello, Liz, still with us?"

She shook her head and looked up from where she was dripping ink in a large blot, and she was greeted by the concerned faces of Jason and Werner.

"Fraulein, take a break."

She opened her mouth to object, but Jason was faster. "Go home. You did great today. We can set up our exam rooms tomorrow. Then we can figure out what else we need to do Monday morning."

Werner nodded. "I approve this course."

Liz sighed. Coven protocol. She should comply.

So she quietly said, "Goodbye," and did.

Back at the Household Residence, she spared only a few minutes to greet the family and explain that she had already eaten. Then she went straight to her room and sat on the bed to meditate, asking her music box for a white noise track of rainshowers and low rumbles of thunder.

Severus did not sneak up on her this time, but ran his hand down the outside of her door, triggering an alarm ward and then deftly unlatching it. Liz quickly released the rest of the wards before he could tamper with all of them, and then she opened the door wide and greeted him with a smile.

He sneered. "You need to save your better wards for high-need times. After the work I did on this house, no enemy who makes it to your bedroom door will be stopped by your wards. And in the meantime, those of us who see them locked and released regularly will become a liability if we are compromised."

Well that was instructive, if not a very nice greeting. Liz forced her smile a little wider and stepped back to invite him inside. "Thank you. I will do as you say." She re-warded only the door alarm and room-wide  _ muffliato. _ "Sufficient?"

His sneer softened to a frown and he nodded. "How quickly can you be ready for a cocktail party at Malfoy Manor?"

She could do it in about two if she had to, but she said, "Ten minutes."

"We are already late. You have five."

She wasted no time bouncing into the closet. A quick dip of her fingers to her crotch confirmed she was still bleeding her monthly, so she summoned a Fatin's 1-Day, warnings be damned. Her mother's notes indicated the primary concern was continuous use, and she was willing to risk Vanishing Sickness with this fourth-day use to avoid any possible embarrassment over bodily function. Next was wand-work, a few quick freshening charms, and a transfiguration for her high-necked halter dress to turn it from forest green into a deep burgundy red color with black lacework over the bodice. The skirt was a bit too long for a cocktail party, so she shortened it to knee-length, and just a bit lower in the back. Hair held back with a plain red band, strappy red flats on her feet, and a splash of cherry blossom scent completed the transformation, and she stepped back out of the closet. "What do you think?"

She couldn't quite gauge the look in his eyes as he stepped toward her and brushed the pads of his long fingers over her bare shoulders, caressing the snakes on one side and the staff on the other. Then he gently turned her to look at her other tattoos, the St. Mungo's Emergency patch peeking out past the angle of the fabric as it wrapped from her neck down under her arm.

"Shall I glamour them? Or go the other way, and also un-glamour my elements anklet?" She didn't have time to revel in his surprise, or the hungry way his gaze slid down her body. She dropped the concealment glamour on her right ankle and propped her foot on the vanity stool so that he could get a closer look at the 7 symbols of the elements wrapped around it like a charm bracelet. "Honestly, at the time, I did not understand the vision that made me get this tattoo. But then Mama Bear said it would be a symbol of great power and great responsibility. Her approval meant everything to me. I did not realize I was unofficially serving her coven. It’s only too obvious now that she’s a Stars Priestess."

He was silent, but they didn't have time for a lot of thinking.

"Severus, I am an Air Priestess. I've already given it a lot of thought, and I've come up with several Mysteries of Air that I practice and protect. Music is at the top of the list. You also know a few things about the Mysteries of Smoke."

A tiny smile quirked the corners of his mouth. "Yes, perhaps Air does suit you better than Earth. In any case, yes, let everyone see how you carry all these marks with pride. You will not see a Death Eater bear their Dark Mark so openly outside the Dark Lord's presence. This will be a novelty that keeps everyone's attention on your more benign secrets."

"Do you think I should bring my bag? I cannot carry it discreetly like my disillusioned wand-holster, and it is rather the opposite of fashionable."

"Is there anything in it that should not be Vanished for Recall?"

She had to take a second to think about it. There were indeed a few supplies that should not be Vanished, but she wasn't about to admit to having them. "Let me pocket the dittany, as well as my music boxes. If there is anything else, then I should probably just accept their disappearance into non-being, and find alternatives that can withstand Vanishment." She retrieved the bag, slipped the critical items into the charm-secured extension pockets among her skirt pleats, and then presented the bag to him. "Would you please do the honors? I'm afraid I will be needing a lot of practice on less important objects."

He nodded and waved his wand once.

That done, Liz said, "I think our five minutes are up."

He nodded again and gave her one last appraising look, before conjuring a sheer red shawl.

She gratefully accepted.

They stepped carefully down the stairs and passed the entire Blumwand family in the kitchen. Marlena spotted them first, dropping her mixing bowl on the counter and calling out, "Liebkind, wait a moment!"

Severus seemed about to protest, but Liz saw which cupboard Marlena was opening, and it gave her a good idea what was coming. She turned to Severus and shushed him with a look, reaching out to adjust his cloak so that his fine dress robes were visible. She spared a few seconds to run her fingertips along the strong silver threads expertly stitched into the stark black fabric. His glamours were gone, except for the trademark greasy hair, and Liz’s heart raced in anticipation of how fabulous they would look together at a high-class social function. Then she took a step back and tugged him toward the fireplace. It would make a good backdrop.

When Marlena turned around with a camera in-hand, Severus tensed beside Liz. She looked up to him and asked, "Please? I promise to keep this photo secure. We'll put a perimeter ward on it, so that it turns to dust if it leaves this house. I just want to keep it locked in my room. Please."

He gave her a hard look, but then he turned toward Marlena as if to pose. Liz felt giddy, and she had to school her smile into something appropriately serene next to Severus and his neutral expression.

Marlena snapped the picture and beamed at them. "Sehr gut!"

"Thank you, Sister. Now we really must be off. Do not trouble yourself waiting up."

\------------------------------

Once again Liz was greeted by the warm breeze and soft floral scent of the Malfoy estate.  They were indeed late, and three dozen pairs of eyes made Liz blush a little when they entered the ballroom.

"Lizzy, dear!" Cissy called, abandoning the group of four other witches circled with her. Liz noted with some amusement that three of the four followed Cissy across the ballroom, and the fourth was scooped up in the process by a dance partner.

Severus murmured into her ear, "I'll leave you to the ladies, for now, but we will dance later." As he slipped away into the crowd, Liz's heart skipped a beat at the prospect of dancing with Severus in front of all these people, and fortunately she was saved from swooning by Cissy's approach. Witch's greeting exchanged, Cissy turned to the group, "Ladies, this is Mistress Lizzy Althea." Then she turned back to Liz with a saucy smile, "Aren't you a dish tonight?"

"Oh yes," sneered one of Cissy sycophants, a dark-haired, darkly tanned woman with features Liz was sure she should recognize from a girl in Slytherin House, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. The woman looked down her nose at Liz, voice dripping with disdain. "Your gown is darling. Who is the designer?"

Liz didn't miss a beat. "I believe Rotita is known more for her lingerie and swimwear, but this dress was a gift from an admirer in Paris." She knew perfectly well that the implied message of wearing a lingerie designer's dress to a ball was specifically a statement of intent to turn male heads, and she wondered if Severus knew this particular detail of aristocratic wizarding fashion. Oh well. She could play dumb about that if needed. "To be honest, it was a hideous pink color until I took my wand to it."

Cissy graced them all with a little giggle, and the rest of the group except the dark-tanned snob offered airy little "ha"s to go along. "I think that's what I like about you most, Lizzy. You don't let all our snobbery get in the way of your good time. Perhaps you could teach Mistress Parkinson your secrets."

"Now, Cissy, I'm sure she meant no offense, and neither do you. You and I both had honest questions about each other's fashions just the other day." She turned a mischievous grin onto the tanned woman, whose nose was still up-turned. "Mistress Parkinson, I do apologize if my low-brow fashion sense offends you. Does it help to know I recognize and admire the incredible beadwork on your bodice? Another French designer. Claudine, I think?"

The sneer was gone, replaced by an appraising look. "Yes, actually."

The lady standing next to Liz in the circle piped up, "It is truly exquisite, Periwinkle."

"Thank you, Lavina."

Ah, that's right. Lavina Travers. Two or three years ahead of Liz at Hogwarts. Nice enough. Very pretty, in a sweet and cute kind of way with her bouncy blond curls and bright smile.

But Periwinkle was still talking, and did not give Liz a chance to wrack her brain for more details. "Perhaps Mistress Althea could now impress us by choosing the next bottle of wine?"

This was a bit more out of her depth, but Liz leaned on her experience in France once again. "Of course I don't usually choose wine without a dish to pair, but perhaps a Rosé de Provence will do."

"Oui!" agreed Cissy, "A sweet summer wine from the south of France. Lippy!"

Liz had to work very hard to keep her surprise in check as Cissy Malfoy gave orders to  _ her _ elf. She wondered if this was part of Lippy's service to Hogwarts, to spy as needed by the Headmaster. It would explain why Lippy's presence seemed scarce at the Blumwands' home, and why Liz generally saw Lippy educating Marlena and Julia on kitchen skills instead of serving them herself. Liz's hands clenched and un-clenched as she considered the hard talk she would need to have with Lippy later.

It was only a moment, however, and then a tray of five blush wine glasses appeared in the center of their circle. They all reached for a glass at the same time, and Liz took the initiative to raise hers, "To our hostess."

"Our hostess," chorused the ladies. Liz took a dainty sip, and watched the rest of the circle do the same.

Then a gentleman came up behind Lavina and asked, "Young Mistress Travers, may I have a dance?"

Liz watched with amusement as Lavina blushed the same color as her pale pink wine, and then clearly did not know what to do with the glass she held. "Allow me," Liz said, taking it gently by the stem. Lavina gave her a shallow curtsy in thanks before allowing her suitor to lead her away. As Liz watched them walk to the center of the dancing space, she slowly but steadily knocked back the whole glass. "Er, Lippy, was it?" And the elf appeared to relieve her of the empty, hardly pausing at all before popping back out of sight.

Ah that was better. But the ladies were staring. "What? It would be uncouth to hold two."

Cissy gave an unladylike scoff. "It is uncouth to drink fine wine like a fish."

"Oh, come off it, Cissy," snapped the last lady of the group. "You had three yourself before Mistress Althea arrived."

Liz smirked. "Please, ladies, call me Lizzy." Then she took another dainty sip of the best rosé she ever had. "Though I will admit it's better to savor such a fine drink." Then the rush of the first glass really hit her, and Liz revelled in the warmth of the booze.

"Cissy was already too tipsy to introduce us properly, Lizzy. I am Angelica Yaxley. I believe my son is in your year at Hogwarts."

"Yes, Faranor. I am afraid we are not close, but then I am not really close with anyone at school."

"Perhaps we should remedy that," she raised a hand to signal across the room, and there he was, Faranor Yaxley, ready to strut over to them. Liz downed half of her own glass as Mistress Yaxley made the formal introduction, "My Young Master Yaxley, I believe you are acquainted with Mistress Lizzy Althea."

They exchanged the formal greeting, and he said, "May I have this dance?"

"Please excuse me, ladies. And, Cissy, please save this for me." She winked at her hostess now holding two drinks, and then did not look back as Faranor led her away.

There was some predatory in the way he looked at her. A four-piece orchestra was playing a waltz, and Yaxley at least knew the steps. He wasn't a great lead, but that could have something to do with the nervous glances he sent back to Angelica Yaxley, who was watching them like a hawk. "Young Master Yaxley, I do believe your mother would see us form an attachment."

"Cut it out, Althea. We both know you don't belong here."

She smiled, but inside she was screaming. This was the  _ worst _ part of the aristocracy, having to play nice for the eyes upon you while they insulted you out of earshot from the rest. There wasn’t enough wine in all of France to mellow her rage at the two-faced threat in her personal space.

He continued, "But, the Malfoys threw this together hastily as soon as they found out you have favor with our Lord, and it has all the hallmarks of a debutante ball. A coming of age party, just for you. Right down to making sure you were the last to arrive, so all eyes could be on you, for just one moment."

When he said "on you," his hand slipped to give her bum a squeeze, before returning to the proper position at her back. It was artfully done, and skillfully timed, so that the gesture was turned away from any attentive onlookers. He had probably done it a hundred times before.

Liz's skin crawled, and she had an instinct to stiffen her posture, but she forced herself to relax again as not to step on his foot and prove her status as a bumbling outsider. "Perhaps you should hold your peace, Young Master Yaxley, for our gracious hostess has no daughters, and I have but a shadow of a mother. If Cissy wants to throw me a ball, who am I to refuse?"

For a few steps, they were silent, and his lead improved. He even spun her in an elegant twirl, deftly picking back up on the proper step. Then he said, "It's true that you have no right to deny anything to a Malfoy. You are hardly more than a half-blood, and you arrived on the arm of one, too."

Her eyes made a quick survey of the room, looking for Severus. Half-blood? She should have recognized this from his familiarity with the customs and pop culture of the muggle world. But she couldn't spot him now, and she needed to focus.

Yaxley was still talking, "You may have the mothers all worked up about the fresh meat to feed their sons, but that's all you are to us."

"I see now," she said icily, "why my mother used the Avery name when she needed to get a civil word out of a fellow pureblood. Perhaps I will have to adopt it for myself." He looked sufficiently scandalized by the suggestion, but the song ended, and Liz took the opportunity to say, "Thank you for the dance. It was much nicer than the topic of conversation."

It was bad manners to stalk across a party with no escort, but she still hadn't found Severus, and she attempted to make a beeline for Cissy. She didn't make it four steps before she was stopped by a gentle hand on her bare shoulder.

"Excuse me, Mistress, may I have the next dance?"

She knew that voice. Turning a bright smile upon him, Liz was bold enough to take public advantage of the invitation he had already made regarding familiar address. "Uncle Ash, it would be my pleasure."

As they began to step together to the tune, Liz was disappointed to find that he wasn't any better of a dancer than Yaxley, but he was capable, and he clearly had something on his mind. "How do you find your new establishment in Hogsmeade?"

"Well enough that the others sent me home early today. Tomorrow we will finish the renovations. I am sorry I have neglected to ask: Once Jason and I have moved my mother, would you like to visit her?"

The stumble was nearly imperceptible, and if Liz had another drink in her she might not have noticed his misstep. But he recovered and said, "I will be there frequently to enforce security. So, yes, if she'll see me."

A dark look crept into Liz's eyes as she narrowed them, thinking about what he had admitted during all the revelations the first time they spoke. "Seeing you is not the problem. Recognizing you could be a challenge, especially if you were in any way responsible for the state she's in."

At first he seemed confused, and then looked stricken. "That's disgusting, Kiddo. She's my sister. I might have been there, but I was only a witness to the authenticity of her reaction."

That same skin-crawling feeling was back, tingling through Liz's hand and hip where he held her and gave just-too-hard signals as a lead. A moment passed, and the song wound down.

"Anyway, I really just wanted to give you this bit of advice: Keep doing what Snape tells you to do. You and he are the Dark Lord's favorites at the moment, and that's good for all of us."

"Er, thanks. Perhaps you could return me to Cissy? I left my drink with her."

He took her directly to the right-hand of their hostess, along with the growing circle of Cissy's hangers-on, and Liz gratefully accepted a fresh glass of wine, unsure if she should care what happened to the prior. The pinot in her new glass was not as refreshingly drinkable as the rosé, and she was a bit disappointed but probably better off at a slower pace.

"Ah, Lizzy," she crooned sweetly. "The suitors are lining up to dance. You should join Young Mistress Travers and Young Mistress Greengrass, as the eligible ladies."

Liz leaned in to whisper, "I can't help but notice some missing faces. Your dear sister. My dear escort. And Uncle Ash has already disappeared again."

Cissy's look turned hard and cold. "Go dance, Lizzy. You'll be called soon enough."

An icy chill ran down Liz's spine. She eyed the glass in her hand, doubting the wisdom of draining it, and compromising with a rather large and un-lady-like gulp. "Thank you Cissy, I believe you are right." Then she found herself between Lavina Travers and Daphne Greengrass, their arms tucked into hers, all still holding their drinks, and Lavina dragging the lot of them to a powder room.

Liz was a bit dazed by the abrupt change in scene. Lavina said, "Daphne, you do better privacy charms."

Nodding, the other girl cast several quick charms to prevent prying, and a few more to root out any existing surveillance. None found, she gave Lavina a frown. But Liz was catching on. "Allow me." She swept around the room, noting the lack of magical traces at the corners, as well as on the single piece of lounging furniture perfectly centered in the room, but she paused at the large mirror above the counter. She should probably search the cupboards below, but there was something about the mirror that tugged at her intuition. The shimmer around the edge made her stomach do a flip. "It's a two-way. Visual only, I think. No sound."

Both girls were instantly at her sides again. "Can you disable it?" Lavina asked.

"No. But we can cover it. Use it first, if you must."

They all looked at each other, shaking their heads negative.

Liz drew her wand and conjured a black sheet, pinning it up with a sticking charm.

"Ugh," said Daphne, flopping down on the obscene chaise lounge in the middle of the room. "Leave it to a Malfoy to watch girls in the powder room. Probably Draco, although I wouldn't put it past Lucius, if he was home."

Liz took another long sip from her wine. If Draco was feeling alive enough to get off with some peeping, she'd be tempted to go ahead and give him a show with the girl draped just so on the chaise. She did not dare say as much. It was probably the wine talking, anyway.

Lavina was eyeing Liz with open curiosity. "My daddy says you have a gift. I've seen the scar. But it sounds awful, Lizzy. How do you handle broken people all the time?"

"Lavina, she probably doesn't want to talk about it. Would you want to think about torn up legs and gods know what else?"

"Sorry, just curious."

"Not at all," Liz managed. "Obviously it's not easy, but I do what I can. Actually, Daphne, if you don't mind my own curiosity, this appears to be an adults-only kind of party, and aren't you a sixth-year?"

The girl paled but recovered quickly and sat up straight, prim and proper in contrast to the shapely curve of the chaise. "I was sick when I was little, and I didn't have some all-powerful Hand Healer to help me. I didn't start at Hogwarts until I was twelve. I'm only about four months younger than you."

"Sorry."

"Sure, Liz, whatever. And I'm betrothed to a distant cousin on the continent, so I am really only here as a stand-in for Pansy Parkinson. I've been at countless social calls here all summer. Normally Draco comes to save me, and we find somewhere to drink without all the pressure, but he's been hiding tonight. I wonder why."

Liz sipped her wine. "Probably my fault. Sorry again. I was here the other day, and I danced with him, and I think I made him face some feelings he'd been repressing. He's really quite good. At dancing, I mean."

"No argument there," said Lavina, a dreamy look in her eye.

Daphne scoffed but raised her glass. "We'll be missed soon. Meet back here after three songs?"

Liz followed along, as the three touched their glasses high above their heads and then drained them dry.

She rather liked this ritual, prepping in the powder room for the dance sequence of singles mixers. She would have to remember it when she established her full coven.

The first dance was tolerably quiet, a group court dance meant for viewing by the entire party. The single men of indiscernible age were all vying for the three premium partnerships with the eligible ladies, cutting in regularly. Liz was rather amused by this, although less so when Amycus Carrow got a little handsy with her. She was about to stomp hard on his foot when he was cut out by Master Felix Rosier ("Please call me Felix, my late father was Master Rosier."), whom Liz learned was exactly 10 years older than her, almost to the day, and was often away from home.

As the first dance ended, he said, "I much prefer the quiet life in Peru, so my uncle runs the household here, but Mother said there was a new face tonight, and I am glad I was able to make it."

She liked this one. He could dance properly, without leering or groping. "Could I convince you to share the next dance?"

He grinned, "Hardly a challenge to convince me. I'd be delighted."

Felix was an excellent lead on the dance floor. He also refrained from asking too many personal questions, and he kept his hands respectful. The pace of the new song was a bit faster than the last, and Liz was feeling flushed. He pulled her a bit closer, held on a bit tighter, and kept her moving until she stumbled a turn.

It was amazing, the way he recognized her misstep and adjusted his signal until she was doing a full spin, ending the move properly so they could bow and curtsy the finish.

Liz was left a bit breathless.

"May I escort you to the refreshments?"

She nodded, and they selected drinks -- Liz tried another red wine, and he chose to drink the same as she -- before shuffling to the edge of the crowd. Liz raised her glass, "To your mother."

"To Mother," he intoned, but then gave her a wry look. "She's just over yonder, and she'd be mortified to know we toasted her, but I'm so pleased she convinced me to attend."

"Likewise," agreed Liz. Between sips, she asked, "So, Felix, what do you do in Peru?"

"I am head of security at a dragon reserve. It's definitely not as exciting as it sounds. Mostly paperwork, really."

Liz smiled. "Healing also has more paperwork than anyone realizes. Research maladies. Prescribe treatments. Update charts. Inventory supplies. Correspond with colleagues. I'm probably missing a few."

Cissy came up between them and scolded her, "Now, Lizzy, you cannot keep Master Rosier to yourself all night. Lavina, dear, I think it is your turn to dance with him."

Lavina emerged from behind Cissy and gave Liz an apologetic glance before turning a hungry smile on Felix. Liz smirked. If that's how it was, that's fine. "Of course, Cissy. But, Felix, perhaps you could introduce me to your mother, and I can thank her myself for your presence tonight?"

"Allow me," insisted Cissy, and then she took Liz by the arm and swept her away.

It was slow work, dodging the shifting circles of conversation, gently cutting short the attempts to draw the hostess into those circles, but Liz managed to fill the moments by saying, "Oh, Cissy, thank you for inviting me tonight. I have met so many new people, and you have impeccable taste in wine."

"These are your people, Lizzy, and this was your homecoming. Perhaps, though, it would be more appropriate for your uncle to escort you to the next function."

Liz wasn't sure what to say next. She hated all the trappings of aristocracy, and Malfoy Manor was in no way  _ home _ . On the other hand, she rather wanted to know more about Lavina and Daphne. All her research on covens was making her form a pet theory about purebloods having a stronger innate desire to serve an element, and she wanted the opinion of these pureblood girls coming of age. But she didn't have time to form a coherent response, for she was now standing in front of the most regal woman in the room. She had the poise and presence of a Queen Mother, and in some ways she probably was.

Even her name implied royalty, as Liz found out through Cissy's introduction: "Mistress Regina Rosier, this is my new friend Mistress Lizzy Althea."

Mistress Rosier gave Liz a critical look, but turned toward Cissy with her nose up. "That is not her name."

"No, indeed," Liz agreed, tipping her head in an exaggerated nod. "My name is Persephone Lysandra Althea, though I do prefer Liz or Lizzy, if it pleases you to have the name used by my friends."

"Mistress Althea, I would have you turn about the room with me." A subtle shift in her body language made clear Mistress Rosier's intent to leave Cissy out.

Liz made an attempt at an expression of simpering. "I should love to, but perhaps we might escort our hostess to the refreshments. Her drink is empty, again, and mine nearly so."

Cissy clearly knew when she wasn't wanted, and made a show of surprise at the empty wine glass in her hand. "I shall catch up with Periwinkle for the next bottle. Ladies."

Mistress Rosier merely nodded, but Liz offered a shallow curtsy to her hostess before turning back to her new acquaintance. "Clockwise?" she suggested.

"Counter."

They fell into step next to each other, and despite the crowd giving them wide berth, Liz was in no doubt of the attempts at eavesdropping as they passed the clusters of party guests. Liz attempted to face forward while noting the nuance of the woman's grace. Liz was graceful herself, with such practice at dance, but this queen of high society had decades more experience. She lost herself for a moment, in the hundreds of tiny, delicate black beads of the woman's necklace. It appeared to be some kind of volcanic glass, and either the necklace or the woman who wore it was emanating a feeling of protection. Liz wondered if this woman of such stature in society was also an Earth or Fire Priestess.

"It's not polite to stare," Mistress Rosier said quietly. "Instead, as you count the people in the room, you might consider going by your stronger given name, and, perhaps, also your mother's surname."

Liz sipped her wine and counted 39 people in the room before responding. "There are precious few in this world who dare use my given name. And far too many who assume far too much from a surname."

She wished she could see Mistress Rosier's face react to this, but alas, she was suddenly aware of how quickly the crowds shifted, and how easily one could lose an eye on someone. She was re-counting when she heard the older woman say, "That is both fair and unfair, Mistress Althea. Those who matter most, friend or foe, will learn your entire pedigree regardless."

She wanted to scoff at this, but she was a little busy noting the exits. That would make it easier to keep the count, rather than tracking everyone in the middle of the room. Absently, she mumbled, "Those who matter most will learn who I am, regardless of pedigree."

She couldn't help it, and glanced over to see a tiny smile quirking the lips of her companion. "That sort of statement at this sort of party is just asking for trouble, child, but it is good that you learned on your own why we walk the perimeter."

Liz bristled at the condescension, and then reveled in the praise, and finally panicked that she perhaps lost count. She counted again. Forty. Whoops.

Mistress Rosier continued as Liz surreptitiously scanned the exits every 30 or 60 seconds, "But, we are both right, of course. It is your right to choose to remain Mistress Althea. However, you are the only witch who could claim the title Mistress Avery." She gazed out to the dance floor. "That is, of course, if your uncle cannot woo the Young Mistress Greengrass away from her fiancé in Belgium."

Following the line of sight, Liz indeed saw Uncle Ash holding Daphne Greengrass just a little too close.

"Perhaps we should liberate her," Mistress Rosier looked at Liz and smiled a genuine smile for the first time, "and the two of you may go to the powder room."

"First, I should thank you, both for the highly instructive turn, and also for reaching out to Master Rosier. He is a delightful dancer, and this night would not have been the same without him." She looked away to where he was still dancing with Lavina, who had a very becoming blush creep up her neck from the exertion. "Er, I hate to use the word  _ liberate _ to describe taking Lavina away from him."

"They'll be fine with each other here," insisted Mistress Rosier, sotto voice, before they approached the other pair. "Master Avery, may I have a word?"

Liz noted the annoyed glance he started to give the interruption, but then schooled quickly when he saw who had addressed him. "Yes, Mistress Rosier. Kiddo, would you please look after Young Mistress Greengrass?"

She smiled and nodded. "We'll just be on our way to freshen up."

Mistress Rosier dismissed Liz directly. "We'll have another turn together at the next Malfoy function."

Liz offered a shallow curtsy and then linked arms with Daphne, who spared a glance at Lavina and rolled her eyes. Liz felt better now about leaving Lavina out of the private break.

But when Daphne started casting wards again, Liz got a little concerned. "Stop," she said.

Daphne paused and looked to Liz for explanation.

"Something I learned just today, actually, from, er, someone who would know, is that you shouldn't use the same protection spells too often." She pulled her want and added her personal variant of the door alarm, and also her own  _ muffliato _ to weave into Daphne's. "We will also have to train Lavina."

Throughout all that, Daphne slid down to her favorite position, sprawled on the chaise. She stretched languidly, pushing her bosom to fill the cups of her low-cut v-neck gown.

Liz quickly drained her drink, set down the glass, and conjured a fresh sheet for the looking-glass, having vanished the one prior, in case anyone actually wanted to use the mirror.

She turned back to Daphne and said, "All right, sharing time. That's what this room is for, right? First, I need to know, must I have words with my uncle?"

Arms draped elegantly above her head, Daphne propped one foot up on the chaise, and the layered skirts of her dark green gown slid down her leg. "I have no idea what you mean."

It was a shapely leg, and it distracted Liz a little. Oh. This girl's tease game was  _ strong _ . "I apologize. Of course you are in total control over a drooling dog like my uncle."

"Oh, he's such a good boy. My sweetest pup. But he gets mean when someone else gets too close. Between him and the made-up boyfriend, we both keep our predators at bay. Where are they saying my betrothed makes his home, tonight?"

Liz laughed. "Er, Belgium, I think. And, Merlin, color me impressed. If I had any drink left, I'd drink to you."

This time Daphne laughed, and then she got up to pull a flask of liquor from a cupboard. She unscrewed the top and raised it high. "To me," she said, with a cheeky grin and then a long pull.

Then she handed it to Liz. "To you," she said, and had a small sip. "Vodka." She took another. "Rather good vodka."

Daphne nodded. "If there's one thing Mistress Malfoy does well, it's choose booze."

Liz raised the flask, "Hear, hear."

They each had another quick pull, and then stashed it again.

Liz watched thoughtfully as Daphne arranged herself again on the chaise. It looked like she was practicing poses for rather intimate embraces. Liz was really starting to like this room, and she said, "It was Mistress Rosier."

"What about her?"

"The one who said Belgium," Liz explained.

Daphne snorted, and somehow made it sexy. "Mistress Rosier likes to think she is a matchmaker. She likes to think she can reach across space and see the love in our hearts and the fates in our stars. But what she really wants is grandchildren, sooner than later. So Lavina can have Felix, and I can have my freedom, such as it is."

Liz's gaze snapped up from Daphne's delicate ankle to her closed-eyes face. It, too, was erotic as hell, as Daphne practiced every way to bite her own bottom lip. Literally shaking herself, and feeling the pleasant delay of a proper buzz, Liz tried to focus. She pictured hundreds of glittering beads in her mind's eye. "Stars, you say?"

The eyes snapped open and the posture straightened. Daphne looked over at Liz and complained, "Oh, no, not you, too."

"Not me, what?"

"Lavina is already serving her. You can't, Lizzy. Lavina will be Young Mistress Rosier soon, and then she'll be too busy with coven and family." She dropped her gaze to the floor. "Ashley is sweet, but he's not the same as a proper girlfriend. I can't bring  _ him _ in here."

"Do not worry. I serve no other Priestess. Besides, the Stars only glitter because of the imperfect Air. The cycle of life is never as steady as the Stars, but more like unpredictable gusts. And the Stars may have set the stage for our place in the cosmos, but in the end, Daphne, we are leaves in the wind."

"Well, now I need another drink. An Air Priestess, Lizzy?  _ And _ a Healer?  _ And _ the most eligible bachelorette in Britain? Color  _ me _ impressed."

"Ugh, when you put it that way, I need another drink, too."

Daphne did the service of retrieving the flask, but she paused and asked, "What do we toast?"

"Forget the toast. Sorry, I mean, still take a drink. But, meet back here in three songs?"

"Three songs."

With a renewed sense of power, confidence, and shifted perception, Liz strutted back out to the dance floor with Daphne and waited for the suitors to gather. Shoulder to shoulder, Liz and Daphne gave each other their knowing smirks, and then turned the tease game out onto the men.

Daphne's dress was by far more revealing, but Liz figured both of their skirts were cut just right for flashing a lot of thigh in a Latin dance. Daphne took a sultry spin to evaluate the options in partners, and Liz had a word with the musicians, convincing them to take a break and let her place a music box on their dais.

The cellist lingered, and Liz had no doubt she was about to scandalize everyone when she asked him if he could salsa.

Soon they were eight-stepping, and she managed to ask, "What else do you play?"

He pulled her close, a bit too close for this high-class party, and whispered in her ear. "Bodies, hearts, and minds." Then he pushed her out for a turn, with just enough flair to raise her skirts.

She laughed.

"But really, any strings. I've played hundreds of Malfoy parties, but I've never had the chance to dance with one of the ladies."

Liz admitted, "I am probably offending some pureblood propriety. Or a few. But I like musicians, aristocrat or not. Mistress Malfoy says this is my homecoming, that these are my people."

He signaled a dip, and she leaned back, raising her knee and flashing far too much leg.

"But you, the song and dance man, you are my people."

He chuckled. "I think, Mistress Althea, that you are drunk."

"Ha. Tipsy, maybe, but good to dance. Good to sing."

The hungry look he gave her did throw her off step, but he smoothly put her back on the beat. "I have heard you sing. I was in the crowd the other night when the Warlocks of Wonderland invited you on stage. When this song ends, you should blow away all these stuffy toffs."

She did not get his name, but this was the best partner dance she'd had all night. He was a perfect gentleman as the music died, bowing low as fit his station, and offering a hand to escort to the dais.

She flicked her wand at the music box and prepared to put all of her defiance into a high-energy routine.

_ From "She" by Green Day _

_ She  
_ _ She screams in silence  
_ _ A sully riot penetrating through her mind  
_ _ Wai-ting for a sign to smash the silence with the brick of self control _

_ Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?  
_ _ Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?  
_ _ Scream at me until my ears bleed  
_ _ I'm taking heed just for you _

_ She  
_ _ She's figured out  
_ _ All her doubts were someone else's point of view  
_ _ Wa-king up this time to smash the silence with the brick of self control _

_ Are you locked up in a world that's been planned out for you?  
_ _ Are you feeling like a social tool without a use?  
_ _ Scream at me until my ears bleed  
_ __ I'm taking heed just for you

The cellist collected his colleagues during this song, and she didn't have time to truly evaluate the reaction in the room before she was replaced on the dais, and a much lighter upbeat tune rang out from their strings.

Dizzy as she stepped down, watching the edge carefully as her vision swam a bit, a hand gripped her arm. It was Draco Malfoy. "Mistress Althea, may I have this dance?"

"Of course, Young Master Malfoy. I believe I shall always be happy to follow such a skilled lead on the dance floor. Perhaps a fox trot?"

He gave her a shallow bow, and she responded with a curtsy. Then he offered his frame, she stepped into it, and away they went, gliding elegantly across the space. He didn't waste any time before scolding her. "Your steps are not as clean as last time. Are you tired, or are you drunk?"

She glared as he led her backward. It was the nature of the fox trot for the lady to step backward, relying entirely on the cues of her partner. "I shall have to trust my lead to carry my sloppy performance."

"You need to keep your wits, Liz. When our Lord is done with his lieutenants, you're next."

She missed a step, and Draco nearly let her fall. Nearly.

He caught her and turned her around, to glide back the way they came. "And do not speak to Mister Padgett again, let alone dance with him. He is a married man, and he is beneath you. It is beneath me to follow him, but I will play the gentleman to smooth this over. Do not expect me to save your social status again."

Liz was sufficiently chastened, but she continued to offer him only a glare.

" _ She screams in silence _ ," he quoted with a smirk. "So true. You are lucky, Liz, that your song reached the hearts of all the ladies in this room."

She turned her head to observe the other dancers, and Draco mercifully kept the steps simple while she took in the scene. Every last one of them was glaring at their partner. Even Lavina was giving Felix a measured look. She couldn't find Mistress Rosier to gauge her opinion, and was a little ashamed that she had totally lost count of the guests. Daphne was in the arms of Amycus Carrow, and the feral look in her eye was clearly intimidating him.

As her gaze passed them, Carrow caught Liz's eye. He maneuvered himself and Daphne, just a bit clumsily, to be nearer to Liz and Draco. "Young Master Malfoy, I do not mean to interrupt, but might I have a word with Mistress Althea?"

"Master Carrow," Liz hissed, "How rude to abandon your partner in the middle of a song."

"It's all right, Lizzy," insisted Daphne. "If Young Master Malfoy does not mind."

She and Draco shared a conspiratorial grin. "Not at all, Young Mistress Greengrass. May I escort you to the refreshments?"

Suddenly Liz was led poorly to the center of the dancing space by Carrow, and she watched with a sense of loss the way Draco and Daphne disappeared through a side-door. They were off, just as Daphne described at the beginning of the evening. She likely wouldn't see them again tonight.

She turned her attention to Carrow and asked snobbily, "Well?"

The smile that bloomed on Carrow's face was lusty and greedy. "There's something special about you, Mistress Althea."

"Hmm, many things indeed."

His right hand, which had started at the appropriate frame position on her back, crept downward. "Something in the way you move. Perhaps you could teach my sister. She has always wanted to learn to dance."

Something about the way he drew out the word  _ sister _ sent chills down Liz's spine, and the way his hand steadily crept lower gave her goosebumps. "Is your sister not here? There are many fine leads among the gentlemen tonight."

"She has business to conduct before she can join the party."

"That's a shame. It's already getting late, and I would hate to miss her entirely."

Just as Carrow's hand reached a point Liz might protest, a shadowy figure appeared behind him.

"Severus," she whispered in relief, as he nearly threw the other man aside and stepped into his place.

"Healer Althea," he murmured, smoothly falling into the steps of the dance, holding her hands delicately. She could barely hear him say, "When this dance is finished, you have a private audience with our Lord."

Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly assessed her level of intoxication. She had hardly any supper, and several drinks, but she seemed to be keeping time, and Draco had put the fear of god into her. She wasn't too far gone to keep her mouth shut until required to speak. Good. She couldn't refuse anyway. "Could I delay long enough to catch my breath with a tall drink of water?"

His eyes narrowed, but his steps remained light. "One sip."

"All right."

When he led her to the refreshments, she was surprised that he personally poured her drink from the pitcher. It was only because she was so thirsty for this man, that she was watching him closely enough to see him slip a vial from his sleeve and drip 3 drops of a potion into her drink.

She eyed him warily.

He looked indifferent as he offered her the glass.

In front of everyone like this, she couldn't refuse. And she was thirsty. As the gulp she took splashed across her tongue, she felt shame in mistrusting him.

He had given her Sober-Up potion.

It would take a few minutes to work properly, with how much she had drank, but she was so grateful and needed to pull herself together to be worthy of this discreet gift.

A moment later, just outside a nondescript side door, Severus seemed to hesitate, but he said nothing. He just looked at her, an unfathomable pain slicing the space between them.

Finally he knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for the response. When the door shut out the bright, loud party behind them, Liz needed a moment for her eyes to adjust to the darkness, and her ears to the near-silence. A small fire crackled in a nearby grate, back-lighting a simple dark throne. The great snake, Nagini, was coiled up on the warm hearth.

With Severus' hand at her back, Liz felt much braver than she would have otherwise. He gently pushed her to kneel alongside him, at the feet of the seated Dark Lord. Her bare knees did not approve of the stone tile floor, but she dutifully exposed her neck.

"You may leave, Severussss."

And then Liz was alone with Lord Voldemort.

"Rise, Healer Althea, and look upon your Lord."

She did not have time to decipher the intent of using her professional title instead of her pureblood one. Compared to last time she had seen him, his new appearance was a surprise, and clearly held together by a boatload of glamours. He was still a monument in the uncanny valley, bald-headed and slit-nosed, but the proportions were more human, the skin a peachy color, and the eyes a deep brown like her own.

His lips were even full enough to give a proper smile, and, menacing though it was, it made her want to smile, too.

He said, "Do you approve?"

She ducked her head but smiled at the tile floor. "That depends. Do you actually wish to appear more human, or would you prefer to stand apart in your eternal power? I approve only what pleases you."

A raspy laugh graced the air, and Liz looked again in time to watch the odd way that his words did not quite match the movements of his face. "You and Severus are among the rare few who do not recoil from me. The rest are weak, wishing to see themsssselves in me."

"I beg my Lord not judge them too harshly. I have seen great terrors with no time to recoil. Your awesome presence must be overwhelming to those unaccustomed to their own racing hearts."

A thoughtful pause followed this request. "Do I make your heart race?"

"Oh yes," she breathed with complete honesty. "The raw magic around you is incredible. The Black Hole Sun. It is easy to see why you draw so many followers."

"You draw your own following, as well. I have seen it in the memories of Severus and Narcissa, among others." His voice was calm and even, but Liz could hear both the question and the threat.

The red skirt of her dress puffed around her as she dropped to her knees and bowed her head again. "I am learning the Mysteries of Air, but I keep finding that I already knew so much. In your greatness you recognized many rare magicks in me. I am only playing catch-up, with the help of many skilled witches and wizards. If any are following me, rest assured I would never bind them in a way that interferes with service to you." She continued with the honest truth, "I do not wish to bind anyone at all, actually, but it seems the ancient ways of the covens are ingrained in us."

A long silence stretched, and Liz bent lower, nearly touching her nose to the floor. Little currents of dark magic flowed throughout the room, and Liz was entranced. Finally he replied, "Indeed, I have wondered, when we have proven the might of magic, and driven out the muggle-lovers, if perhaps we should re-form magical society around the cults and covens."

Liz's head snapped up and she plastered a mad grin on her face. "You would be the High Priest of the Sun, Lord of All Life and Master of All Elements."

The "Yesss" that hissed from him was followed by, "I will need strong Priessstesses in my cult. How do you wish to ssserve?"

Before she could think it through, she said automatically, "As High Priestess of Air."

Tendrils of raw magic swirled around them, drawn from the chilly air, the stone tiles, the crackling fire, and the alcohol within her veins. "I accept," he said, and the magic ground out in a flash of light as bright as a blinding reflection of sun on the sea, and it stole Liz's breath away.

Was this how her champions felt when she accepted their service?

She didn't have time to ponder this, for the Dark Lord said, "Rise, Priestess. Gather your followers, knowing they are ultimately mine."

"Yes, High Priest, Lord, and Master."

"Severus, in particular, has many duties at my command. He may serve your bed, but he needs ressst."

"My Lord, I completely agree. In fact, I believe my bed should be a service to him, rather than the other way around. I also believe he hesitates from a perceived power imbalance. My touch is, of course, bewitching, and he does so hate to lose control."

The raspy, hissing laugh reprised. "Do as you please to engage him, but do not break him. I need him in top form. And as for your touch, I have one experiment to attempt before I send you back to the party. Though I dessspise the arrogant display of wealth in the next room, I find myself wondering if this body, so steeped in dark magicksss, could manage to hold your white light long enough to dance."

Liz's throat worked convulsively for just a second. What would happen when dark met light? Calming herself, she dared to ask, "Please drop your glamours. I prefer to touch the truth."

He didn't say a word, but he did as she asked.

He probably expected her to flinch, but she was prepared, and she held steady. Despite the reptilian taint to his appearance, he seemed comfortable enough in that skin, and she had certainly seen more cringe-worthy faces full of pain and suffering. She wondered, though, "Does Bella recoil, despite her compulsion?"

The currents of magic were building up again slowly after the grounding, and they suddenly turned strong and deadly.

Liz quickly explained, "I mean no offense. It may be relevant to treating her. Do you wish me to complete that task?"

"Yes." After a moment, he added quietly. "And yesss, she does."

There was a note of regret in the way he said it, but she did not want to think about that now. "I see," she said simply, and then she filed that thought away for future reference and took a daring step toward the throne, just two or three steps away from being able to drop into his lap. She wanted to lay her head there, and she wondered if this was the same urge Severus felt or if his doing so simply put the idea in her head. Her body was humming with raw magic and adrenaline, and just a bit yet from the lingering drink. The dark magic emanating from her new master was raising this high to new levels. "I am ready now."

He rose to stand tall over her, and it seemed like slow-motion the way he raised his bony hand.

She smiled warmly, knowing that if anyone in this world needed a Soul Healer, it was Lord Voldemort. She thought of the Healer's Gift, how the Essence of the Healer could become the most powerful healing potion known to wizard-kind. If she gave of her body freely, maybe just maybe she could work that soul magic.

He caressed her left arm, right around the bare spot where perhaps he envisioned branding her with a Dark Mark.

It was glorious. All her senses rushed to the contact between them, and a pool of arousal slicked in her underwear.

Suddenly she was pushed back against a wall, and the Dark Lord was grinding against her, though she could feel no erection. She was on fire, moaning out loud and rubbing wantonly against his thigh, grasping the silk of his robes in her fists. He kissed her, or at least, she could close her eyes and pretend it was a kiss. He sucked her bottom lip and bit it, drawing blood.

_ This is it _ , her mind supplied from somewhere still capable of rational thought. This blood is the Essence of this Healer, given freely to this wizard to heal his tattered soul.

He hissed and pulled away.

She felt a searing pain as her knees buckled. She was on the floor, writhing. Was she screaming, too? She couldn't quite tell. She thought she had closed her eyes, but she could still see an oncoming fog.

Oh shit.

She had badly miscalculated, and she was the one approaching the fog, freefalling into her own Misty Place. She was probably being tortured out there. She willed herself to slow the descent, tempting as it was to detach from the pain and hide in the tangled web traps. No. Too many people were depending on her. She had unfinished business with  _ everyone _ .

Liz wondered if her mother had a similar experience, a more-or-less conscious decision to face the pain or hide in madness. She thought about how much it hurt to lose her mother that way. She thought about the lessons she received from Suloos and his friend who practiced the Mysteries of Ink.  _ Swallow the pain. Own it. You don't always get to choose your suffering, only how you react to it. _

She chose to swallow the pain.

She would be stronger for it in the end.

She hoped.

And she screamed.


	17. When I Talked About It, Carried On, Reasons Only Knew

#  P1Ch17 Playlist

  * Title track: "Big Me" by The Foo Fighters 1995
  * _His voice soothed her aching bones, raw nerves, and scratched soul._
  * _The phoenix rang out a two-tone song._
  * Like a Prayer by Madonna 1989



Chapter 17 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5n1fF9jwnc1FJ9ZTBdHLnB>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 17: When I Talked About It, Carried On, Reasons Only Knew

Liz wasn't aware of the time passing, or the moment when the Dark Lord abandoned her on the floor. The first thing she felt was the strong arms of Severus Snape picking her up.

"Oh, I'm dreadfully tired," she mumbled, "Just another minute, please…" and then she regained consciousness "...aaaaaaaahhh!" One scream. That's all she allowed out of her mouth before she pressed her lips together, grinding her teeth. But the effort of keeping quiet made her shake, and Severus nearly dropped her.

"My Priestess," he hissed in her ear, "you are safe with me; do as you need."

The urge to scream passed, and she wept, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding on, trying to think through the lingering pain, unable to open her eyes.

She had succumbed to some seriously dark magic. She bound herself, though she was unsure just how tightly, into service of the Dark Lord, and she even had a little snogging session with said Dark Lord.

The weeping turned to mad cackling.

"I should not have brought you here tonight," Severus murmured, depositing her on a bed. She was oblivious to the room change, but the whisper-soft bedding was like sandpaper on her skin, and she keened in pain. She could barely tell what Severus was saying. "I should have told Narcissa no, and I should have kept you all to myself."

Another mad giggle escaped her, but she cut it off and ground out hoarsely, "I don't think the Dark Lord will make another move on your girl." She coughed into her hand and was truly upset to see flecks of blood in her spittle. Her throat would need time to heal from all the screaming before she could sing properly again. She swallowed hard, the pain of it fueling her rage, and said, "You showed your jealousy well enough to Amycus Carrow, too. And if Faranor Yaxley ever touches me again, I'll cut off the offending hand and present it to you for further punishment."

"Be calm, Priestess. You are still swimming in dark magic. But I see you through the storm clouds. Your light shines still. Rest a moment while I tend you, and then you can tell me all about what happened."

Liz focused entirely on the chant he began. His voice soothed her aching bones, raw nerves, and scratched soul. It was melodic and beautiful, and after a few moments, she shifted from feeling completely strung-out to ready for a sing-along. She translated loosely from the Latin:

_ The pain is over  
_ _ The pain has passed  
_ _ Strength is not needed anymore  
_ _ Relax and recover _

_ Open your hands  
_ _ Open your eyes  
_ _ Loosen those muscles now  
_ _ Find the release _

_ You are safe  
_ _ You are whole  
_ _ The mind is the last hurdle  
_ __ You have control

He allowed her to sing along with two repetitions before going silent. She could finally open her eyes, and found they were in the Pink Parlor, still at Malfoy Manor. It was empty, but for them, and she offered him a smile. "Thank you for teaching me a healing song I did not know."

"It is specifically effective for treating after-effects of the Cruciatus Curse."

Her throat was still sore, so she tried to nod, but that was not a pleasant sensation. She whispered, "Help me sit up."

"You can't possibly be healed enough," he scoffed, but obliged anyway.

Legs dangling over the edge of the narrow bed, sitting but leaning heavily on Severus, she waggled her fingers and simply said, "Healer." It was getting easier to move, now, but not to talk.

"Then why do you still sound like absolute shite, and why..." he brushed his thumb over her mouth, and she hissed in pain when it rubbed over the bite mark.

Of course. Of all the rotten luck. She just had to offer her body, and he just had to damage her face. She really was a stupid girl. A tease. A liar. A cheater. And now everyone would know it.

"Priestess."

Her eyes locked to his, and she winced at the dark look he bore, with severe creases at his brow and a downward turn of his mouth that she assumed was the same disgust she felt for herself.

He said, "This is all my fault. Forgive me. But tell me why I cannot heal your lip. I may not be a healer, but it's a basic charm."

Tears filled her eyes. She looked down at her hands and whispered, "I wanted him to do it, and I moaned like a slut."

He frowned more deeply, but she wasn't looking up to see it. His voice was full of patient concern when he finally said, "I don't understand."

Should she tell him? Mind made up, she spoke fast to make the pain quicker: "The Curse of Momus. All True Healers are cursed. If we cause an injury, it cannot be healed with magic." There. She admitted it. The inherent weakness of a True Healer. He knew about all her other weaknesses. Why not this one?

"Ah. You moaned like a slut, asking for it. And you screamed your own throat raw."

She managed to raise her hands to cover her face in shame.

"And the rhythm of your body cramps your muscles every month. And you have seen things that keep you up at night. And, Persephone," he continued, gently tugging her hands back down, touching her only enough to do so, and not scrape at her raw nerves. "None of that is your fault. You have done nothing wrong. The Dark Lord is a very powerful agent of dark magic. It's seductive. You would not be the first to throw yourself at him, and you are definitely not the first to get a dose of Crucio for your blunder."

She started rocking, shaking her head. "Stupid girl," she whispered. "Tease, Liar, Cheater. Tease, Liar, Cheater. Tease, Liar, Cheater."

"NO!" he snapped, startling her out of her chant. "No, you are none of those. You are brilliant, honest, and true. The sooner you reclaim those traits the sooner the dark magic will dissipate, and I'll get back my white witch."

Tears slipped down her face. "I am weak."

"You are you, and no one has asked for anything else."

She sucked in a deep breath and choked on it, sputtering for a moment. When he reached out, she waved him off, pointing an accusing finger at the door. She rasped, " _ Everyone _ in that ballroom wants me to be something different."

He didn't seem to have a reply for this. He simply gathered her up in his arms, which hurt like hell on the surface but calmed her down considerably. She buried her face into his robes and took comfort in the scent of spice and darkness.

A minute later there was a knock at the door. Severus drew away and released a handful of wards, opening the door a mere crack.

It was Lavina. "Sorry to intrude, but Lizzy left this music box. Is she all right?"

Severus gave Liz a questioning look, and she nodded. Then she struggled to stand, but she managed, and Severus cracked the door wide enough that Liz could offer Lavina a small smile. "Thank you. I'll live."

"You were brilliant tonight, Lizzy. The others might be offended by some of your ways, but I think you are the most interesting lady of us all. And I think Daphne likes you, too. I'm off to have a walk with Felix, but I wanted to be sure to say goodbye, and tell you that I hope you'll be here when Mistress Malfoy hosts again."

The thought of another night like tonight made Liz feel sickly, but she forced her smile a bit wider and said, "Yes. Til then."

The moment Lavina was gone, Liz collapsed back on the bed, raising one hand to her damaged lip, cracked a bit more now after forcing that smile. Severus was instantly at her side. "I see you made at least one friend tonight."

She tried to laugh, but it caught in her torn throat and she coughed, covering her hand in more spots of blood. Severus pressed a glass of lukewarm water into her clean hand, and in between sips, he dosed her with another potion. Done with her doubts, she accepted gratefully, and found herself the recipient of his improved throat-soothing potion.

He tried to give her the music box next, but she pushed it back to him. "I made this for you, actually, that night, er, whatever night that was. I made one for the new contract, and I made one for you." It was a little easier to speak now, and she wondered just how brilliant his potion would be if her curse wasn't fighting it. "The spells still aren't perfect. But it's the best I can do for now." Her strength was fading, and she was suddenly very tired. She wanted to explain all the things the box could do; she wanted to apologize for abandoning the box in the ballroom; she wanted to stay with Severus; but all she could muster was, "Please take me home," before losing consciousness.

\------------------------------

The next thing Liz knew, she was waking up in Sanja's bed, alone. The sky was bright, and it hurt her eyes. Fumbling her glasses, her stomach did a flip-flop, and she was sick all over the blanket. Acid and mucus and bile.

"Gross," declared Julia from the doorway, where she held a breakfast tray. Liz straightened her glasses, took one look at the toast, and felt like vomiting again.

"Easy does it," said Thomas, waving his wand and vanishing the mess. "Julia, I'll take that. Please give us some privacy."

Julia glared, but Liz must have looked truly pathetic, or Thomas more stern than she would test. Probably both. She pouted and turned away.

Thomas sighed and placed the tray on the vanity, coming over to sit on the bed next to Liz. He fluffed her pillows so that she could sit up a little straighter, and then handed her a teacup.

Liz sipped carefully, and then said. "Thank you." Her throat was no longer raw, which explained why the stomach acid didn't burn as badly as she expected. In fact, other than the nausea from thinking about it, Liz was feeling quite recovered from her night. She gingerly traced one finger along her lower lip, and then breathed a great sigh of relief that it was healing nicely. In another day or two, no one would be able to tell that she had had a busted lip.

Thomas perched awkwardly on the edge of the bed, but he looked deadly serious. "I'd like to set the scene for you, Lizzy. Marlena and I were up late, having a sort of in-home date night. You and Severus looked so sharp, and we dressed up to have our own fancy party with drinks and dancing. Julia dolled up, too, but we had just tucked her into bed when the alarm wards sounded off..."

He hesitated, but Liz could not say anything. The memories of the previous night were flooding back, and it was all she could do to pay attention.

"At first we were terrified, but simply looking out the windows showed us a dark-clad man with an armful of flowing red dress. He couldn't dismantle the wards while carrying you, so we took them down from the inside and pulled you both through the door. And then we had a new reason to be terrified."

Liz closed her eyes, unable to face him, for she knew she was the cause of this fear. She focused for a moment on her garments. She was wearing her favorite bedclothes, tight-fitting leggings and downy-soft shirt. Luxuriating in the feel of fine clothes against her healed nerves was a rather nice distraction in the silent pause.

"All of my daughters, Lizzy. All of you have been hurt in ways I could not prevent and could not fix."

She forced herself to watch Thomas bear this pain for her. It tore at her heart. He didn't owe her this. He didn't owe her anything. His service, both before and after becoming her champion, had been unexpected and amazing, and she felt a great deal of guilt for becoming a source of worry in his life.

"And Severus was in bad shape, too. Though I am only twelve years older than him, he may as well be a son, for what he means to you. I have never seen him frightened before last night. But there he was, collapsed on the floor of our sitting room, refusing to let go of you, incoherent as Marlena fussed and I froze."

Thomas shifted his posture and swallowed hard. 

Then he continued, "Eventually we coaxed him to your room, here, by insisting we should make you comfortable. I finally snapped to my role, asking your Attendant Sister to clean you up while I took your Lead Champion to my office. I discovered that you had both been on the receiving end of the Dark Lord's displeasure. He was not clear on the details, and I suspect he will need his Soul Healer to help him accept what happened."

Liz nodded. "So much happened in a short few hours. I have work in Hogsmeade this afternoon, but I do need to talk to Severus. Where is he?"

Thomas had been looking generally down, but now his features creased to a frown. "We are not finished, Lizzy. Marlena reported that your physical condition was miraculously fine, all things considered, but that you came to us smelling like booze and rot. You should know better than anyone what too much alcohol does to the body."

Liz sighed. "Of course I do. And I'm sure I soiled myself under torture. I might have foregone drinking if I had expected to be hit by an Unforgivable. And, Thomas," she eyed him warily, "perhaps you do not realize that dark magic can leave a rotting residue after it is purged."

His expression suggested that this was news indeed.

"No matter. I do need to bathe. And then I want to see Severus. Where is he?"

He hesitated, and then he said, "I would prefer if you both rested a bit more. He is sleeping in the master suite."

Liz's eyebrows shot up. "You gave him  _ your _ bed?"

Thomas stood, looking away briefly before turning a cold look on her, and the tension in the room became thick. "Severus needs rest, too, Lizzy. He wasn't cursed with Cruciatus, but he was just as much a victim last night as you were. Maybe more so. You brazenly danced with death, and we almost lost our Priestess."

She tried to turn her sob into a chuckle, but the sound came out all choked and twisted. After a moment she was able to speak clearly. "I danced a lot last night. Some of it was even quite nice. I don't think the risk was death so much as madness." She had to refocus when she saw the panic this statement caused in her champion. "Thomas, I do have something else I need to tell you, because I want your advice before we part today. I should warn you that drinking was not the worst thing I did last night. Severus gave me Sober-Up before meeting the Dark Lord, anyway. But I have done something very stupid at best, and possibly damning us all."

To his credit, Thomas took this warning with a simple look of soft concern.

"Maybe you should sit down."

This time Thomas raised his brow.

"Or not. As you please." She couldn't stall any more. It was time. "The Dark Lord wishes to lead a Sun Cult. I was, er, a little taken by the darkness, and I myself declared him the High Priest of the Sun, Lord of All Life and Master of All Elements."

"You didn't."

"I did. And then he asked how I wished to serve."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes. And what else was I supposed to do? Decline?  _ That _ would have been dancing with death."

Thomas paled. "Did he accept your service?"

"As High Priestess of Air."

He was shaking his head when he said, "This is bad, Priestess. Very bad. You have bound us all in service to the Dark Lord, if only indirectly. But," he paused and glanced at the ceiling, obviously thinking. "Honestly, it could have been worse. He didn't bind you with a Dark Mark, and serving as High Priestess to another element is not at all like serving as a Sister or a champion. He made you responsible for one of the seven elements of magic. Unless he gives you a direct order, you continue to serve the Air itself."

His eyes narrowed, and Liz saw the warning in them before he voiced it.

"We are going to have to trust you not to put us in a position where the Dark Lord micromanages your coven. We are going to have to trust you to make the right choices so that we may live as you would have led us without this mistake. We are going to have to trust you to take the brunt of the Dark Lord's wrath if you muck things up so badly again."

Her heart raced as bits of phrases rolled through her mind.  _ Stupid girl. Take the brunt. Swallow the pain.  _

"My Priestess, you are a great witch, but you must be more careful. Accepting the service of champions means accepting responsibility for our well-being. Do try not to put us in such danger."

"I am sorry," she whispered, "I only want all of you happy and whole."

"I forgive you. I expect Severus will too. But I do not know what you can or should say to Werner. And I would advise against accepting any more champions or Sisters until you fully understand your role in the Sun cult."

Liz nodded. "That's exactly what I hoped you would say. Thank you." She held out her hand and was pleased when he did not hesitate to grasp it in his own. But her tummy chose that moment to rumble, and she asked, "Can I have that toast now?"

\------------------------------

She was just starting to feel clean again, scrubbing head to toe in the bathtub, when the door creaked open, and Severus slipped in. She marveled at his simple tan-colored robes and realized they must belong to Thomas. It was probably for the best that she wasn't greeted by the sight of yesterday's finery.

Severus conjured a simple chair and sat next to the tub, facing her. If they both reached they might be able to hold hands. Liz offered him a tight smile before holding her nose and ducking completely under the water to get a good rinse. It was a proper soaking tub, so she brought up her head and was otherwise still underwater, covered by the warm comfort. The water was clear enough that he could see her whole body, but she did not feel naked. She dried her glasses with a cloth and draped it on the rim of the porcelain between them.

It occurred to her that he might be leaning on coven protocol, waiting for her to address him. On the other hand, he might be hesitating because of the old adage about having something nice to say. Either way, they didn't have time for long drawn-out silences, and she said, "We have a lot to talk about, but I do have responsibilities this afternoon. I'm sure you're busy, too. I think the fastest way to tell you what I need to tell you is to share a memory bubble. Do you know this technique of legilimency?"

His eyes narrowed. "You could do that this whole time?"

"Dumbledore didn’t tell you?" she countered, but she didn't want to fight about it, and she sighed. "But I'll take that as a yes. When I am finished here we can go back to the bedroom and we'll share the bubble. While I finish my bath, I also want to know what happened to you while I was stuck with social-climbers and the drunks."

He sneered. "You were doing your best to fit in with both groups."

"Severus, I probably deserve it, but if you can only reply in sarcastic digs, then I don't know how we'll ever get to the hard part." She leaned forward, drawing her bust above the water line. "And trust me, love, there is something very difficult coming yet."

The look on his face was still hard, but the tone of his voice was resigned. "There always is." He paused, and she waited, leaning back into the delightful soak. His eyes lingered on her breasts before locking with hers. "As soon as we arrived, it was obvious that several key Death Eaters were missing. Normally Narcissa's parties are twice as large, but some of the usual guests are currently incarcerated, and others were gathered in the smoking lounge on the other side of the throne room. The Dark Lord normally concludes business long before the parties begin, but last night there were a few delays. I do not know exactly what Bellatrix did, but she was wailing madly in the corner, and I asked if I should fetch you."

Liz drew up her knees and rubbed the still-sore joints, gently splashing the bathwater and trying not to remember the time she spent on her knees last night. "I take it she declined."

"She ran off, and we did not see her again. It is typically unwise to go hunting when Bella does not wish to be found. Her husband had already been and gone, and Avery reported that Rodolphus was drinking heavily and attempting to peep on the powder room."

The water was still slightly warm, but Liz shuddered, with a very good idea of what might have happened between Bella and the Dark Lord. She didn't want to think about the powder room, despite the smirking approval on Severus' face, and she was pleased when he got back to his report.

"In singles or pairs, all of us were called to the throne. When Avery returned from his short session unscathed, I sent him to check on you. Draco came through near the end, and the Dark Lord did not even want to see him. I was last."

Liz hugged her knees close to her chest, full attention on Severus.

"He was already in a foul mood and wasted no time tearing through all my attempts to occlude. You, naturally, have been occupying many of my recent thoughts, and I thought surely we were both about to die for the way I got close to you without properly seducing you. But then, he surprised me. He dove deep into what I know about covens and champions. This knowledge is much older in my mind, and much better protected. He assumed the surface was all that I had. He then  _ instructed _ me in the ways of the patriarchal cults, and their superiority to the witch-led covens. And then he asked if I cared to guess at his core element."

Liz smiled. "The Black Hole Sun." She was now stewing in tepid water, so Liz cast a quick warming charm on her bath while he considered what she just said.

"Ah, a clue I should have understood, but did not. No, I spun an ego-stroking notion of all the elements, and I was quite wrong. The Dark Lord does not suffer fools, and suffice it to say, he was unhappy with my equivocation. By the time he was done with me and ready to see you, I was both glad for the reprieve and terrified at what might happen next."

She nodded thoughtfully. "And I know the rest."

"Almost. I did cast a quick tracking spell to be sure you stayed where I left you. The Dark Lord abandoned the throne room without telling anyone, and I am sorry to say that it was nearly an hour later when I finally dared to enter again and found you in a post-Cruciatus heap on the floor. In the meantime, I cornered Avery for an important chat, but we can discuss that later."

"Yes, let me get out of here and get dressed." She stood, vanished the bath water, and summoned a towel.

Severus stood and held out both hands. "May I?"

Was he really in such need of her touch that he would ask to help her pat her dry, or did he expect that she still needed assistance with her own care after last night? Liz wrapped herself in the towel but then reached out to him for a steady hand as she stepped carefully out of the tub. Once her feet were planted firmly on the floor, she pulled him into a tight embrace.

He squeezed the air right out of her lungs, gripping her so.

"Severus," she squeaked, and he loosened his hold. "Ah, thank you. Come along, love, the sooner I get dressed and share my memory, the more time we'll have for a proper cuddle before my business takes me away this afternoon."

He scooped her up in his arms, and she had to throw hers around his neck while he carried her back to the bedroom. She nuzzled his jawline and hummed in pleasure at this treatment. However, her good mood shattered when he said, "After we speak, I'll be taking you straight to the Headmaster."

She should have known that was coming. Because of course it was. But she didn't want to think about it just this moment.

In the bedroom, Severus applied privacy wards while she dried, dressed in several layers of fine black clothing, including a classic pointed hat with a wide brim, and calmed herself enough to meditate on the memory sequence. It was still freshly traumatic. She had to be careful. "Professor Dumbledore prefers the pensieve for the objective view, but I think this method will mean you feel what I feel. Is that right?"

"He also likes to think that it is not such a violation if he does not directly enter another person's mind. But the answer is yes, I will more or less have your perspective of what you choose to share."

Liz scoffed. "Legilimancers always have bizarre notions of boundaries and privacy, you included. But whatever. All right, I think I will start with the moment I realized you gave me Sober-Up." She offered a small smile of appreciation before turning her lips down to a frown. "And I'll stop just about the moment he cursed me. I do not think it's a good idea to share my descent to near-madness."

"Agreed," he said, as they both sat on the bed, leaning back on their heels, but facing each other. He took her hands in his own (sweet but unnecessary, as she recalled from the experience with Kochi-san) and looked into her eyes, murmuring,  _ "Legilimens," _ but not actively searching.

What Liz did feel was subtle, like a light knock on a door, a gentle request for access. Breathing deeply and evenly, she maneuvered the memory to the forefront of her mind, where she sensed that hesitant presence. She said out loud, "Here we go," and  _ popped _ the bubble.

She knew, in some detached part of herself, that they were still on the bed, and he was reliving it with her, but that did not make it any easier. She could feel him slowing it down, too, probably attempting to study it better, but she was not interested in lingering on this memory.

When it was over, and Liz could clearly see the bedroom around her once again, she doubled over and gasped, forcing the memory back down into the labyrinth beyond the mists. Severus reached out, and hauled her body upright again. They held each other, still kneeling on the bed, for a few minutes.

Finally, he pulled back just a tiny bit and said, "This might actually be good."

She laughed nervously. "Another champion of mine just told me it was very, very bad."

"The Dark Lord believes you are a loyal follower, but your only tasks so far are serving the Air and healing the troops. We can make sure it stays that way. And he might believe that your servants are in turn his, but it doesn't quite work like that. And," he hesitated, "the Headmaster has been asking me to recommend a new spy. It is not something I would do willingly, but he has ordered me to give him a name, and now I will be giving him yours."

Liz gulped. "I can't share this memory with him. It's shameful enough that you had to see it."

"You will survive. Show him exactly what you just showed me. I meant it last night and I mean it now: You did nothing wrong. Dark magic is seductive, in a very literal sense, and you reacted strongly to it. Seeing it first-hand through your own eyes, I think you handled it well enough. The Headmaster will think you were merely seduced by the Darkness, but I know better, and we both now know something very important about how your magic affects the Dark Lord."

"He cannot take my Essence directly, even when offered freely."

"Precisely. If you wish to try again, we must finish the Healer's Gift." He withdrew a parchment from a pocket, cast  _ Finite _ on a concealment charm protecting it, and handed it to her.

The top of the notes had a simplified moon chart, with the date July 31st circled, the day after the full moon. Liz gasped as she understood the information she was seeing. That was the day they could begin brewing the Healer's Gift. Her fear disappeared, and it was replaced by a bubbly feeling she had not felt in a long time. It was hope. She didn’t bother to school the wide grin that she sent to Severus.

"There are two calculations that are less than ideal." He switched her focus from the moon chart to a series of equations.

"I’m sorry, Severus, arithmancy is really not my subject. For as much as I loved maths prior to Hogwarts, there’s just not enough time in my day..."

"It’s fine, Persephone, just let me finish. The first has to do with the amount of the Healer’s Essence. Theoretically, the potion will work with a single strand of the hair you gave me, but it should be more powerful in proportion to the amount. The trouble is finding the maximum that will not render the potion useless, or dangerous."

Liz nodded. "In the book of myths I read, it only took one ladle of blood to overpower the witch who brewed it for herself. She went mad. But blood is different. Hair should be safer."

"My thoughts exactly, and the numbers do have that relative difference. I still want to consult with an arithmancer about the exact quantities, but obviously privacy is key here. I am not convinced I know anyone trustworthy enough, and I would prefer if it was someone who did  _ not _ know that you are the healer whose Essence is under consideration."

Liz nodded, but she wasn’t sure if she had a solution either.

He gestured further down the list of equations. "In any quantities, this set of equations was something I considered after repeatedly failing with a single brewer. If I brew the potion alone, it has less than 2 percent chance of success. But if two brewers work together peacefully, it shoots up to 20 percent, and the depth of the relationship can bring it up even higher."

Liz tilted her head and studied the sheet. It wasn’t terribly complicated. In fact, adding the variable for the second brewer significantly simplified the algebra. "We balance each other," she noted, "and the better we know each other, the better we balance. Wow, so, as much as you have been able to quantify our relationship thus far, we are sitting at even odds?"

He nodded. "But those numbers are already a little outdated."

She smiled, and she tore her eyes away from the equations to look at Severus. His own eyes were alight with hope, and Liz had never seen it on his face before this moment. It made her want to grin even brighter. She wondered if her face would break from all the smiling.

The wider she smiled, the wider he did. Severus Snape and Persephone Althea had never seen such naked happiness on each other’s faces.

Reality came crashing back, and Liz grasped at straws. She was terrified at the prospective responses to what she was about to say. "Severus," she started, but averted her gaze from his eyes back to the equations. "If this works..." She looked back to him, "I have a few ideas how to use it. You already figured out the most important one. And I am not going to tell you all of them. I don't think I should. But there are two you should know. First, I will try it with my mother."

Severus grimaced. "I was unable to buck protocol to see her at St. Mungo's. Part of my discussion with Avery was about moving Sila to your new establishment in Hogsmeade as soon as possible so that we can be free to work with her as we please."

Liz nodded. "Yes, and he's aware of the standards I've set for that transfer. The other use for the Gift, the one I want you to do for me, is to carry a dose with you at all times. If you need to use it for someone else, that's fine, and we will make more if we must. But if you need it for yourself, I want you to take it. If something happens, especially because of the danger I keep pushing you deeper into, I --" she stuttered "-- I cannot bear to think how it would break me to lose you."

The smile had dropped from his face near the beginning of this request, but his expression was relaxed and his voice low and calm when he said, "All right, and you must do the same."

In the quiet moment that followed this, Liz heard Thomas clearly in her head:  _ You brazenly danced with death, and we almost lost our Priestess. _ She whispered, "Of course, yes. I'm so sorry, Severus, sorry for bringing us so close to irreparable harm. Even when we have this backup, I promise to be more careful." She paused and tried to hand the parchment back to him, "And I'm sorry I don't have the skill to solve these. Another burden for you, my champion."

He held his hands straight up and rejected it. "Keep this copy, in case you are inspired. One of the other difficulties is the metaphoric nature of the ingredient names. The Essence of the Healer is just one of the vague terms. The recipe itself is dense and difficult, so take some time to study it and my annotations. And consider it your task to find a trustworthy arithmancer. We will make an attempt on July 31 regardless, but if we fail, it should be possible to review with an arithmancer and try again after the full moon in September. That also coincides with an eclipse, which would normally preclude brewing any healing potions at all, but the equation for timing was really quite simple."

When he pointed it out, she only needed a moment to understand. "Right. The day after a full moon. Any of them should do, but in September the blood full moon is in Aries, a sign of uncertain timing. This potion breaks all the rules, and it certainly fits the theme." She smiled for him again. "The day after the eclipse should be fine, but I agree we should get independent confirmation. I do have one person I might contact to request an arithmancy consult. I will send the missive today, but I am afraid I am not optimistic."

"That will do, Priestess. I also have one formal request for use of the potion."

She straightened her posture. "What is my champion's desire?"

"Use it as leverage when dealing with the Headmaster. Offer it for his hand. Offer it for Potter's protection. But don't reveal it too early, if you can help it. It will be more effective leverage when we have it bottled and ready."

"Absolutely," she agreed, although she was not convinced it would do anything for Dumbledore's hand, if she could not also heal the Dark Lord's soul. But she had already sworn to keep that conversation with Dumbledore a secret. How foolish she had been, sitting in Dumbledore's office feeling thankful to have juicier secrets. This secret was not only a burden on herself, but a wedge between her and her love.

And she did love him.

"Severus," she said, flipping through folders of notes as she spoke, "There's no time right now, but I have my own notes to share about the seduction ritual. There are still many questions, and I think some of them will only be answered if we lean on your skill with legilimency. It will be dangerous. We will not want to be rushed. But we may want some of those answers before we begin brewing Wednesday. If the odds of success are improved by the depth or strength of our relationship, then there are lots of ways an evening in my mind could be valuable."

He was nodding, thinking, when she pressed the relevant parchments into his hands. Then he replied, "The bubble technique is relatively safe. If you show me your memories of the traps being set, I may be able to avoid or even disable them."

Well that wasn't quite what she meant, but she didn't have time for nuance. "Do you have any plans tomorrow evening?"

"I will return here then. For now, we must be off."

Liz nodded. "I am ready." She wasn't, really, but there was no point in delay.

Dumbledore was working in his office, and he invited them to sit, offering lemon drops.

It was becoming a bit of a ritual, the two of them with their usual chairs, declining sweets, and then sitting in silence for an uncomfortable moment as the Headmaster gazed from one to the other and back again.

Finally, Dumbledore said, "Perhaps in the future we will have to do this separately."

Liz scoffed, "If the truth is too much for any one of us, then maybe I should not even be here. After all, I'm the only one in this room who is not a legilimens, but also the only one capable of truly defending myself against legilimency." She glared directly across the desk. "If you two need time alone, I will attend my duties in Hogsmeade, and  _ you _ may come to  _ me, _ at your convenience."

"Miss Althea --"

"Persephone --"

It could have been rather amusing, the way these two powerful men talked over each other and then glared at each other, if it hadn't been so intimidating that they were both intent on scolding her. Now they were probably having a conversation without her, the way they locked eyes, and her patience ran thin.

"Persephone," Severus said smoothly, "You had clearly given a lot of thought to the Dark Lord's core element as the Sun. Have you given any such consideration to the Headmaster?"

A slow smile curled up the corner of her mouth, and she allowed her top teeth to linger on her bottom lip as she drew out the word, "Fire."

A squawk made Liz jump, and suddenly a most glorious bird was perched on the arm of her chair. The eyes held a deep pool of ancient knowledge, and the plumage was vivid red. A phoenix. Liz had never seen one so close before.

She chuckled as she raked her eyes over the creature. "Definitely Fire."

The phoenix rang out a two-tone song. It was so full of light and life Liz wondered if that's what others heard from her own healing song. "Fa-sooo," she responded in pitch.

To her delight, the glorious ave trilled out three more notes.

She replied, "Fa-re-laaa."

It went on like this, for a few minutes, while the men sat, awe-struck, and the phoenix taught the girl a new song. Liz hummed along happily with the clear bell of the phoenix, delighted to learn yet another new healing song. "Fa-sooo-fa, fa-re-la-re-laaa..."

Finally, the phoenix ruffled its feathers and ducked its head. Liz returned the slight bow, and then the bird returned to his perch in the corner.

Liz looked back at Dumbledore, with a smile of genuine happiness, and only a teeny tiny bit of smugness. "Fire," she said again.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Yes, well, I suppose Fawkes is a bit of a giveaway."

She shook her head. "No, you have always been the cyclical power to remake the world. You would scourge the land to prepare for healthier new growth. And you need to remember that there may be innocents trapped in the dying forest at the moment you start to burn it down." She slid her hat off her head and ran a hand through her hair, placing the brim across her lap and fiddling with the point. "A Fire Priestess would feel this burden in her very soul, and call upon a Stars Priestess for divination of the right moment, an Earth Priestess for consent, a Sun Priestess and a Moon Priestess for shining lights on the process, an Air Priestess to supply the winds for spreading the fire in the right directions, and finally a Water Priestess to help end it. The equal status of the alchemical and celestial Priestesses seems to be the reason that covens throughout history have done so much good, while the Priests of the cults, driven by relative power and territorial holdings, have spread so much war."

He steepled his fingers, one hand full of healthy digits and the other full of dead black sticks. "You believe I am a warmongering Fire Priest?"

She shrugged. "I wouldn't go that far. Both Priests and Priestesses are capable of both good and evil. What I believe, Headmaster, is that you have not collected a full cult of Priestesses to keep you in check. Instead, you play your hand too close to the chest, and the only possible result of the secrecy is a longer, bloodier war. But what do I know? I am an amateur at ruling, a novice at war strategy, and very,  _ very _ biased against anything that could make it more difficult to heal everyone after all the fighting." She smiled warmly. "But, I am encouraged by the fact that I feel safe sitting here saying as much. Gods know what torture I'd receive daring to speak like this to the Dark Lord."

"And that," said Severus, "is the entire reason I brought you here. Show him, and then you can go tend your business in Hogsmeade."

After drawing out the memory bubble, she felt unnaturally calm and serene. She declined Dumbledore's invitation to enter the pensieve together, as she had no wish to experience it for a third time in 24 hours. Even with the memory outside of her head, she could tell something  _ very _ dark had been in its place. Severus did go with him, and Liz amused herself by admiring his backside while he had his head bent into the stone basin.

When Severus and Dumbledore finally emerged from the memory, she hesitated. But she knew it was important to keep, asked to have it back, and tears stung her eyes as she forced it down into the misty labyrinth of her memory.

Severus gave Dumbledore a hard look. "You see, now?"

Dumbledore's own hard eyes turned on Liz. "Yes. Miss Althea, I would not have chosen you as my newest spy, but you have already found yourself in the position."

Liz glanced sideways at Severus before pinning Dumbledore with a steely glare. She replaced her hat on top of her head, and she said, "What makes you think you can give me orders?"

She must have surprised him, for he selected a sweet from his candy dish, obviously buying a little think time. But Liz had been thinking hard about this question during her bath that morning. One couldn't refuse the Dark Lord alone, in-person, if one didn't have a death wish, but Dumbledore was supposed to represent the light, the greater good, and the freedom to live as one chose. And so, when he finally responded, it was an interesting combination of the real truth and a bald-faced lie: "Because I give  _ him _ orders -- " He gestured at Severus. "-- and because you know it's the right choice to make."

She didn't quite understand the threat he was making, but it occurred to her that he and she both had seen the Dark Lord make a similar threat in Liz's first memory of him. Her acting and dissembling was put to a real test by the fear that bloomed inside her at the thought of Dumbledore's willingness to hurt Severus. She leashed it and sneered. "Don't be foolish, Headmaster. I have plenty of doubts about what I should do. But I am willing to consider what you want done, and the more you are honest with me and provide me the relevant information, the more likely I will do as I am told, to your specifications and satisfaction." She let her teeth linger on her lip as she released the f-sound in  _ satisfaction _ , the same way Severus drawled out the same sound in her name. She suddenly felt the urge to belt out a rendition of  _ Like a Prayer _ , and tucked that thought away for a more private moment with her Consort. She was a little busy at the moment.

The usual twinkle in Dumbledore's eye was long-gone, and he turned his stony expression to Severus.

Severus nodded.

"All right, Miss Althea, I'll start with what must happen today yet. The first thing I need is the full account of your experience at Malfoy Manor last night. Then you will swear an oath of truth and confidence about the questions I need to ask you. Some of those questions I can ask with Severus present, and some not. I will require you to return to the castle tonight to finish the debriefing. Your orders after today, alas, will depend greatly on this debriefing."

"What happens if I refuse the oath?"

"Aside from you demonstrating your hypocrisy, I will extract the full account of your experience last night in such a manner that you'll be rooming with your mother at St. Mungo's."

Well that was unexpected. And she had no doubt that he was capable of such a thing without harming himself. Or maybe he didn't even care about that anymore, what with the curse in his hand slowly claiming his life. Liz had miscalculated again, it seemed. "The right choice," she spat, "as if I have a choice. And I am no hypocrite, Headmaster, for I only asked you to be honest -- I do not require such an oath from you. If that's what you need, then fine, but I want you to come on in and let me pop the bubble on you."

She suddenly felt the full force of Air, carrying the heat of these men's Fire. She called upon the bits of Fire in herself, bold and burning, to be sure they understood what she needed.

Liz continued, "If you want the full account, you'll need to feel the blush creep up my neck when we arrive, the smooth shift of the booze across my senses, the hands of Death Eaters groping my bum, the seductive attentions of another girl in a private room, all the rage I call out with my Siren's Song, and of course the growing terror as I start to understand the many purposes of the party."

Severus stepped into the conversation at this point, which, oddly enough, cooled her down. "It will take over two hours at real-time review. When are you expected in Hogsmeade?"

This was an opening she had waited for, and got to business. "I'm sure the Headmaster considers this very important, and I'm sure Jason will forgive me for being late when I say that we are to have a friendly working relationship with Hogwarts, gaining a consult for difficult cases between ourselves and Madam Pomfrey, as well as access to an exceptional Potions Master to fill our pharmacy."

Severus glared at her, but then he and Dumbledore shared another knowing glance. When Severus gave the slightest of nods, Dumbledore said, "The relationship would work both ways of course. We would call you, in particular, to the castle regularly."

"Naturally."

"Then let us not delay. Perhaps, Severus, you would fetch veritaserum so that it is available when I have finished viewing the memory."

He was up and gone before Liz had any chance to object.  _ It was fine, it was fine _ , she told herself a few times. She had experienced veritaserum in the past and could handle the nuance of the truth it compelled. She pulled her chair closer to the desk, and while she was turned threw a small smile toward Fawkes' perch. Then she sat flat-footed, hands on the desk, closed her eyes, and drew up the memory. When it was ready, she opened her eyes and nodded.

" _ Legilimens _ ," he intoned. It was less of a subtle knock and more of the way a policeman might bang on the door of a too-loud party.

She shuddered and breathed deeply.  _ Pop. _ And then she was in two places at once, dimly aware of the chair at her backside while simultaneously arriving on Severus' arm at the entry-grounds of Malfoy Manor.

She had selected that moment up until the start of the memory he already saw. This way of re-living it was just detached enough that she could now feel excruciating shame over her sloppy behavior, in addition to all the things she had warned Dumbledore about. When it was over, and she had sent it back beyond her Mists of Mind, she found herself looking into the gravest expression she had ever seen on the face of Professor Dumbledore.

"Shamefully sloppy," he said, volume low but intent loud and clear, "is the  _ kindest _ description I have for that performance."

It was a little annoying that he was reading her new feelings along with the memory, but he had withdrawn now, and she forced herself to keep her mouth shut. She turned back and saw Severus sitting in his chair again, so she rose and drew hers back to its usual position. She didn't want to sit quite yet, as she had just stayed in one sitting position for over two hours. She dropped her hat on the chair, and she slowly and methodically stretched every muscle group from head to toe, everything she could stretch while standing or leaning on her chair.

As she did so, Dumbledore described the oath he required.

It was actually fine. The wording was way more accommodating than she had any right to expect, and definitely not an oath of loyalty as he had requested during their last meeting. In fact, it seemed, by description, to be a Mystery of Air that the High Priestess of Air ought to know. She held his good hand in one of hers, and Severus hesitated only for a second before he tied their wrists with a ceremonial blue silk ribbon, stitched with black embroidered runes.

"Do you, Persephone Lysandra Althea, swear to speak only the truth, as best you can, in answer to my questions, when we are in this office?"

"I do," she said, and she could feel the raw magic drawing up around them. She thought she caught a peculiar scent, a bit like the smoulder of a coal from a spent campfire.

"And do you swear to keep secret the questions themselves, as knowledge only for those who hear the questions as I ask them?"

"I do," she said again, now certain of the smell as the magic surrounded them. Fire and air, ash and smoke, the binding of two elements.

"Then I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, do expect your truth and accept your confidence."

The silk burned hot and vanished, grounding out the magical currents. This left Liz with goosebumps and an urge to draw away, but she held fast to Dumbledore's hand and said, "So be it."

He was the first to loosen their grip, but Liz wasted no time snatching back her hand and rubbing the wrist where she still felt the burn. He hadn't mentioned that the ribbon would do that to ground out the magic of the ritual. It felt like a curse. She glared.

"Your intent," he said solemnly, "will determine the burn you feel. If I ask a question, and you intentionally lie or hide the truth, you will feel that burn hot. It will scale to blazes with your level of malicious intent, but you may also experience a low-grade burn if you are simply too hesitant with your honesty."

Oh, yes, it was absolutely a curse. It wasn't a Mystery of Air at all, but of Fire, or perhaps a unique ritual that would only work to bind Air and Fire. Liz turned to Severus, disappointed that he did not warn her, but finally understanding that veritaserum was not just a requirement but possibly a mercy. "Would the compulsion of veritaserum improve the odds that I do not get tortured just for thinking things through?"

She was starting to get to know his subtle expressions, and now she saw the glint in his eye that signaled approval. "Yes," he confirmed.

To Dumbledore, she said briskly, "Then I welcome the appropriate dose for the questions you wish me to answer now."

He looked back to Severus and said, "Just a few. Perhaps one drop directly on the tongue is all she needs."

Severus withdrew a small vial from the pockets of his robes, and Liz distracted herself from all the fears and doubts by thinking about the ways she had pleasured this man with the tongue she now presented for dosing.

He wouldn't meet her eyes as he carefully applied the single drop.

As the veritaserum took effect, Liz thought,  _ oh, yes, that's the buzz _ . So much like an alcoholic haze. It would even end with something of a hangover headache, if she recalled correctly. And of course, a Potions Master had made this particular vial, so it was rather more potent than the last she'd had.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and asked, "How is Julia Blumwand?"

Liz glared, and then she felt her wrist tingle with heat and her head fog up in the veritaserum haze as she delayed long enough to say, "You have a lot of nerve even asking, but she's recovering." The burn was instantly gone, but she went ahead and elaborated, as she knew it would help clear her head from the influence of the potion. "We've had enough touching family moments that I am not worried about her support at home, only at school. There is some drama with her sister's beau, but Thomas and I have readied ourselves for protecting Julia during the potential danger."

"Good. Next --"

"I am more concerned," she cut him off to continue, "at whether Mister Warrington left behind any friends after he graduated, anyone who should be considered a threat to little girls at Hogwarts. Or boys, for that matter."

It wasn't a question, but it was clearly a statement that expected a response, and the more time she could use up on concerns about Julia, the fewer questions she'd have to answer before she'd get free of the veritaserum compulsion. She was offended when he simply said, "Allow me to take responsibility for that concern. Next, for what role have you accepted Severus in your coven?"

"Lead Champion," she didn't hesitate on the first role, as it would ease the compulsion of the veritaserum, but she was going to test the possibility of leaving out... oh, Merlin, that was HOT! "And Consort," she added, holding her wrist and trembling as the burn subsided. She did not dare look at Severus, but she continued sending her most defiant glare across the desk.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "Yes, I suspected something like this. Though I disapprove, it may be necessary. When will you finish --"

It was odd, the way he just stopped speaking, and despite his not completing the question, Liz could feel the low-level burn on her wrist. She wasn't hesitating on purpose. He had gone silent. Silence. Of course. She had figured out that the seduction ritual was meant to break Silences. She did in fact know how to answer his half-question, but she could feel her own jaw starting to lock, and she knew she would only get a few words out before she, too, would be Silenced. And then she'd really be buggered. She said as fast as possible, "We will know more tomorrow night," and felt the burn ebb away and her muscles relax, "I hope."

Then she did look to Severus, and she wondered if it truly mattered that her mind was well-protected when Dumbledore had found such an ingenious way to compel her to expose the truth. His expression was guarded. She couldn't read him at all.

"Acceptable," said Dumbledore, drawing her attention back to him. "That is all for now. I need to speak alone with Severus, but you will return tonight, any time after the dinner hour. You are dismissed. Hagrid should be at his hut. He can escort you through the gate and to the village."

Liz debated the wisdom of approaching Severus to kiss him goodbye. No, that would probably be a very stupid thing to do in front of the Headmaster. She would likely see him again tonight anyway, whenever she finally made it back to the Household Residence. For now, she nodded her head and quietly took her leave.


	18. The Days are Long and The Nights Will Throw You Away

#  P1Ch18 Playlist

  * Title track: "Hello" by Oasis 1995
  * "Hard Day's Night" by The Beatles 1964
  * _From "For the Longest Time" by Billy Joel butchered by PLA 1983_
  * "Always" by Bon Jovi 1994
  * _The box faded out without finishing Dreams and skipped ahead to Gold Dust Woman. 1977_
  * "Luna" by The Smashing Pumpkins 1993  




Chapter 18 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/45KFRwpjHG1bEqB2krysyQ>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 18: The Days are Long and The Nights Will Throw You Away

The wind was warm but whipping her face as she took the path from the castle to see Hagrid. He was working the garden behind his hut, wielding a large hoe, bigger than Liz, to break up the ground. Alongside the garden she spotted a great barrow of foul-smelling fertilizer, and also a long tray of pumpkin seedlings.

"Hello, Hagrid. Isn't it a bit late for pumpkins?"

"Hallo, Liz! 'S a bit late, yeah, but Professor Sprout has some tricks up 'er sleeve." 

"Of course she does. Could I trouble you to take a break and help me through the gate? I've just been to the castle, but I'm due in the village."

"O' Course." He carefully cleaned the hoe blade and knocked the dirt off his boots. He was probably tapping them relatively lightly against the barrow, but it made a thundering sound that in turn made Liz smile. "I should escort yeh the whole way. Best not walk alone."

She waited patiently as he cleaned up his hands, and then they were off. 

"Been hearin stories, Liz. Stories about yeh, and yer hands. I got a friend in the forest. Think 'e migh' be sick."

A friend in the forest. Oh, Hagrid. "What kind of beast is he?"

"Er, 's a bit of a secret. Would yeh come look?"

She had a bad feeling about this, but she didn't want to let him down. "Well I don't want him to just suffer, so, can you pick me up again from Hogsmeade around six? Actually, I have another appointment with the Headmaster tonight, but I think I could take a moment to look at the patient, and then I can tell you if I can help."

Hagrid gave a great sniff. "Thanks, Liz. Just don't know what else ter do."

Ash and Jason were already on site when Liz arrived. After a quick, "See you later, Hagrid," she got right down to business. Yesterday the men had already shored up the structure, applied security wards, and arranged the floorplan. Now they had just connected the floo and were preparing to finalize security procedures before furnishing the offices, waiting space, and residence. After giving them the good news of direct access to Hogwarts resources, Liz went to the basement to unpack her rush order from the apothecary. She realized she was arranging medicinal potions in the same way Severus kept the school supplies, and it made her smile. Maybe doing this job wouldn't be so bad. She finally felt ready to set up her exam rooms, and she hummed and she sang for the rest of the afternoon.

_ From "A Hard Day's Night" by the Beatles _

_ It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog  
_ _ It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log  
_ _ But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do  
_ _ Will make me feel all right _

_ You know I work all day to get you money to buy you things  
_ _ And it's worth it just to hear you say you're going to give me everything  
_ _ So why on earth should I moan, 'cause when I get you alone  
_ _ You know I feel ok _

_ When I'm home everything seems to be right  
_ _ When I'm home feeling you holding me tight, tight, yeah _

_ It's been a hard day's night, and I've been working like a dog  
_ _ It's been a hard day's night, I should be sleeping like a log  
_ _ But when I get home to you I'll find the things that you do  
_ _ Will make me feel all right, ow! _

This was the song she was singing when Ash came in to check on her.

She finished with the full feeling of the lyrics, screwing up her face and pumping her fist for the  _ ow! _ , but then glared at Ash and icily said, "Busy." 

He said mildly, "I just came to say we finished with all of the day's todo list. Was there anything else?"

She sighed. "No, I don't believe so. Do you think we are ready to open the doors tomorrow?"

"Yes. But I will do the tour of Mentago tomorrow and let you know what we might want to change in the residence before we apply for Sila's transfer."

This was good news for the urgency around her mother's care. She wondered if Severus had a pressure point for her uncle that she needed to know. This made her already-hard feelings toward her only sane relative that much sharper. "Fine." 

"Kiddo," he said softly.

Liz stopped and turned to give him her full attention, but somehow she just couldn't help forming her expression into her most Snape-like, nastiest scowl.

"You've got plenty of reasons to be cold to me. But, maybe, er, nevermind," he started to turn away.

Liz sighed. "Maybe, what?" During the short pause that followed, the words  _ What is my champion's desire? _ rang out through Liz's mind, and she wondered if it would truly be possible for her to sort out her family baggage and rally Ashley Avery as a champion.

"If Sila really can't tell me herself, maybe you could share some proper stories about my sister."

She was rooted to the spot. Storytelling. It was one of the ancient Mysteries of Air, according to the books she'd been reading. There was very real magic in the oral traditions of age-old cultures. Stories about family solidified bonds in ways that could heal a broken line.

"You don't have to, Kiddo. I know you aren't responsible for the distance between me and her."

"On the contrary," she admitted, briefly reaching her fingertips up under her glasses to rub her eyes. "I will consider this duty and get back to you. I also want to see how she reacts when you both are here. By the end of the week, maybe, we could have this conversation again."

After Ash left, Liz went to find Jason. She was done prepping Exam Rooms PLA1 and PLA2, and she found him working in JK2. She still thought two exam rooms each was overkill, and she honestly hoped there would be so few patients that they'd have to fold.

"Jason," she said, and he looked up with a half-smile. "Hagrid's coming to fetch me in an hour. I think he wants to find out if I'm also a veterinarian." She shrugged and he grinned. "But I was thinking of dropping in at the Three Broomsticks for supper first. Care to join me?"

He gave her a sly look. "Just friends?"

She glared. "I haven't eaten since breakfast toast, and I have two kinds of hangover, and my day's not done yet. If you think I'll be friendly, you are in for a rude awakening."

He laughed. "All right, Liz. Let's go."

They shared a large basket of classic fish and chips, washed down with butterbeer. Liz limited herself to one bottle, despite the itch to drown her sorrows, knowing she had to face Dumbledore again very soon.

If only she could have been so responsible when Cissy told her she'd be seeing the Dark Lord.

It was a quiet meal, and Liz spent most of it staring at her food, feeling nothing but tired.

"Liz?"

"Hmm?" She looked up, and then regretted it, seeing the deep concern in his normally aloof features. She picked up another bite so that she wouldn't have to keep eye contact. It tasted like ash, and her wrist tingled, and she missed her parents.

"Biz Liz is so serious. I think I might prefer your rollercoaster version."

She laughed hollowly. "Biz Liz. I like it. The thing is, Jason, I have what is known as  _ fuck you money _ . If I wanted to run off and live another life, I could say  _ fuck you _ to everyone, empty my vault at Gringotts, and bail out of the country. I've never wanted that more than I do right now. But I like to think I have some integrity, and I've agreed to do business with you. So here I am, and I am trying my best to take it seriously."

She sipped her butterbeer, which was dreadfully cloying.

Then she continued, "I also have obligations to very powerful wizards, some more benevolent than others, and not a single one of them I would call a saint. And I am in love, I think, with one of them. And I have a very new family to build, and I have some very old curses to break. I have so much to do, and I only wish I had time for a theme park holiday to ride some rollercoasters. Just last night I had a moment where I realized that I couldn't hide, because I have unfinished business with  _ everyone _ ."

Jason leaned in, "Liz, you would never say  _ fuck you _ to everyone. You might want to fuck, though. No judgements, Liz, we all need a little relief once in a while. And you need it bad, right now, don't you?"

Her head snapped up and she narrowed her eyes at him. She had been keyed up and distracted thinking about Severus at the worst moments today. But she wasn't sure what to make of Jason suggesting that she needed to get laid.

"I'm not offering. Sorry. But you said you think you're in love. Take him to bed. You took me easily enough. As awkward as it was for me the next day, your confidence and decisiveness were top notch. I'll bet you perform exceptionally during the day when you get what you need at night." He winked.

Her face softened as she considered the way she felt after waking up with Severus the other morning, and what she had accomplished that day. "Me and him, both, probably." She drew a great deep breath. "Thanks, Jason. Merlin, what time is it?"

Liz paid the bill. He laughed when she said, "Fuck you, Jason, I got it." The way he laughed did lighten her heart. Then he held out an arm to escort her, and she took it with a small smile. They didn't speak any more as they walked, but they found Hagrid waiting at the door when they returned to the Haven.

"Oh, dear," she said, "Am I late?"

"Nah, Liz, I'm early. This 'ere was faster than I guessed." He held out a broom, and while it was rather larger than a typical flying broom, Liz had a moment of doubt at whether it would truly carry Hagrid. "Want ter fly back?"

Liz's eyebrows shot high enough to do that kind of flying. "How, exactly?"

"I'll hold yeh steady if yeh ride in front o' me."

She was torn. She rather liked flying, but never did get herself a broom of her own. It was too conspicuous to carry one for world travel, and any good ones would not handle the lack of precision in a shrink-and-enlarge tote. Liz looked at Jason, who was smirking, and then she looked back to Hagrid, with his honest smile obvious among his beard. 

Jason said, "Go on, Liz. Next best thing to a rollercoaster, eh?"

This produced another smile, the second he had elicited from Liz tonight. He was probably right again, as he had been about so much these past two days, and the broom was going to be a lot faster than walking. "All right, Hagrid. I'm in." She shrunk her hat and stowed it in her cloak pocket, conjured a hair loop so her locks would not whip Hagrid behind her, cast an invisible goggles charm over her glasses, and mounted.

Hagrid was a shockingly good flyer, with one hand on the broom, the other splayed securely across her entire abdomen, and just one smooth kickoff sending them soaring into the sunset. The broom was old and vibrated pleasantly between her legs. The midsummer's warm wind whipped gently across her face and fluttered the edges of her cloak. If Hagrid hadn't smelled like that nasty manure for the pumpkins, she might have been inappropriately turned on by this flight.

Liz wondered if it shouldn't be so shocking that Hagrid liked to fly. He had no wand, as far as she knew, and this was one of the few magical thrills you could get without one. It would also be incredibly practical for exactly this purpose, flying between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

The pleasant ride turned sour, however, when they passed through a set of wards domed over Hogwarts grounds. The first was a rolling paranoia that Liz herself liked to use for wards in public. But this was incredibly subtle, and she probably wouldn't have recognized it if she didn't use it regularly. The next was a cold splash that she recognized as an alarm ward. She didn't recognize the next one, and then she didn't notice any more. Were there really only three types of wards protecting the outer boundary of Hogwarts grounds? Or was she out of her league even trying to identify them?

Liz cheered herself up by assuming the latter, and then she got back to enjoying the Air.

She felt just a little regret as they began to descend over the forest, but she was encouraged by the fact that this was another benefit to flying. They didn't have to traipse through potentially dangerous terrain as the light faded.

The regret was full-blown, though, as soon as she was presented with an acromantula to treat. For a moment she stood perfectly still, using only her eyes to examine the patient. She was in no way prepared for this, and she didn't know anything about acromantula anatomy.

Would such a beast have anything resembling a soul? She didn't know that either.

"Hagrid," she said slowly, lowly, and trying to keep her movements just as steady as she dared to step toward the resting creature. The aura she felt wasn't quite a soul, but it was very old. Very, very old. "How old is he, exactly?"

"Oh, I've 'ad Aragog since 'e was a babe in my pocket."

"That's sweet, Hagrid, and what year was that?"

She turned long enough to see Hagrid's face fall. Then Liz turned back to Aragog, and dared to reach out and touch one of the enormous legs.

She could feel a dull ache she associated with age. Geriatrics was a particularly unpleasant branch of medicine for Liz. She didn't like the helplessness of the body giving out from time alone. It was one of the few things over the years she had found she couldn't fix. She gave the beast a smooth caress, pitying this once-formidable monster who would likely be in great pain trying to walk on these deteriorating legs.

Liz sang a short lament, in a language long-dead, and then turned back to Hagrid. "I think you know what I will say, Hagrid, and that I prefer not to do so here. Please take me back to the castle."

This time the broom ride was wobbly and rough, and she felt his great tears dropping on the back of her cloak. She felt somehow cleansed from all the dark magic of last night and this morning, anointed perhaps, accepting this physical manifestation of a man's honest sorrow over a dying friend. Poor Hagrid. He would indeed think an acromantula makes a fine pet, especially if he bonded with the pocket-sized baby version.

On the steps of the main doors, Liz gave Hagrid a strong embrace. "I'm sorry I don't know how long he has. Please let me know when he passes. I have to go see the Headmaster now. Take care, Hagrid."

She didn't wait for him to say goodbye. She couldn't. If she felt any more grief wash over her, she'd blow off the meeting with the Headmaster and take Hagrid out to the pub.

Maybe after. For now she bounded as quickly as she could to Dumbledore's office.

As soon as she was invited inside, she swept off her cloak and draped it carefully on her usual chair, taking a moment to admire the salty water marks shaped like perfect teardrops. She drew her wand and cast a stasis spell. Finally, she looked at Dumbledore.

He was sitting in his chair, gazing at her thoughtfully over his glasses. Liz nearly snorted. She wouldn't be able to see like that at this distance, and she wondered if he could really see. Having a moment to consider it, yes, he could probably see a lot more than what his eyes would show him. She flicked hers upward, to the array of portrait frames that normally held the past headmasters, but they were ominously empty, and she brought her eyes back to Dumbledore.

He asked mildly, "What happened to your cloak?"

She knew what he meant, but she still needed to test this brand new curse upon her person, and this question was the perfect level of vagueness to do so. "It fluttered in the wind of a broom ride," she began, and the burn on her wrist began to tingle. "It was pressed tightly between me and my escort as my body hummed in pleasure," she continued, and the heady feeling of shocking lewdness warred with the burning flame that erupted on her wrist. She tried once more, gripping hard and digging in with her nails in an attempt to distract her pain. "It became soiled after dragging on the forest floor." This actually plateaued the feeling, but she decided to stop before she drew blood. "Hagrid wept on it!" She quickly brushed away the tears that pricked her own eyes, and she inspected the bright red burn mark on her wrist, with fingernail imprints on top.

Dumbledore leaned back. "For all your talk of honesty, you seem determined to work around your oath."

She shrugged and said, "I am a student of the human body. This is novel and terrifying, and I want to know its limits." She slumped into her chair, and then Liz made a show of glancing around. "No veritaserum?"

"No," he said quietly. "Severus and I agreed you show far too much skill with evading it. The oath you took should be sufficient, but I do have my doubts after the display you just put on. Why was Hagrid crying on you?"

"He is losing an old friend, and I had to give him the prognosis."

Dumbledore must have thought there would be more, because he seemed concerned that she stopped.

But Liz was feeling righteous and powerful. She had given just enough truth, with just enough relevance. She couldn't help a brief smirk.

"In the forest?" he pressed.

"Yes," she said simply, although inside she was fuming at herself for the slip. 

"Do you think you should tell me more?"

She didn't hesitate. "No." And that was the gods-damned truth all right.

"I do hope, Miss Althea, that we can come to a routine more like that, where you tell me enough and then I ask for your opinion, without the intervening games and defiance."

"You mean torture," she interrupted. "Interesting how you pain me so, only hours I was tortured by the Dark Lord, too."

"Alas, I grow weary of seeing you as an adversary when you should be an asset. I may yet tear apart your mind, if only to keep Severus on-task."

She smirked once again, thinking that if Dumbledore dared to harm her permanently, Severus might just end him before the cursed hand did the job. But he didn't ask a question, so she remained silent until he addressed her again.

"Do you expect to see him tonight?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

She felt the tiniest flare of a burn as she hesitated, trying to find the right words without over-sharing. "He comes to sleep at the Household Residence, because he cannot in his own home."

"That must end as soon as possible."

"No." She lifted her chin. "He is my Lead Champion, and I will provide what my champion needs to function. You recognized even before I did, how the lack of sleep affected him. If you want either of us in top form, you will allow this."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "I will not be able to allow it in September."

Liz kept her expression neutral, but she rather wanted to laugh. If a pair of Slytherins couldn't manage a clandestine relationship in the dungeons, then they had no business being spies. On the other hand, perhaps he was suggesting a timeline, in the only way that he could, for breaking the Silences. Despite this possibility, she closed her eyes tight and sang out a declaration of her intention, bungling the lyrics a bit, maybe, but he probably wouldn't know the difference as she drew upon the Siren's Song to belt out the feelings in her heart.

_ From "For the Longest Time" by Billy Joel butchered by PLA _

_ Maybe this won't last very long  
_ _ Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone  
_ _ Maybe I've been hoping too hard  
_ _ But I've gone this far  
_ _ And it's more than I hoped for _

_ I don't care what consequence it brings  
_ _ I have been a fool for lesser things  
_ _ I want you so bad  
_ _ I think you ought to know that  
_ _ I intend to hold you for the longest time _

When she opened her eyes she could swear his were alight with unshed tears. Oh no, not that again. She wondered if he was really responding to the emotional pull of the Siren's Song or if he was putting on his own show, leveraging the feelings she had just expressed to gain her cooperation. But at the moment, it didn't matter. "Headmaster, I already told you that we will know more tomorrow night."

"Of course."

"And in the meantime, tomorrow morning is the ribbon-cutting for a wealthy philanthropist's charity clinic, where I will be working as a healer. Since you have agreed to allow access to Hogwarts resources on healing matters, perhaps you, Madam Pomfrey, and Professor Snape should attend."

"What is the full guest list?"

"Blessedly short. Me and Jason, obviously, plus his parents, my Uncle Ash, representatives from St. Mungo's and the Ministry, and I have invited Narcissa Malfoy, but I do not expect her."

"Why Madam Malfoy?"

"Cissy has proven to be a capable healer, and I rather hope to recruit her. Fat chance, I know."

For a moment they simply regarded each other, each with tired faces and complicated thoughts. Then she decided, since she was always scolding him for his secrecy, maybe she should lay out her hand. At least, part of it.

"Headmaster, I know I have little to truly offer your cause. I have tried many times to come up with a list. It, too, is short, and I don't know how much of it is blessing or curse. My top priority is Severus, keeping him on his feet for all of us. But I also have a stockpile of gold and treasure at the bank, a song in my heart, and soul-healing in my touch." She shifted in her chair. "All three of these are at your disposal, and I would welcome ideas for other ways to feel useful."

"Do not sell yourself so short, child. You have already helped more of us than just Severus, and if you can manage to behave yourself, I think you will provide key insights to the happenings at Malfoy Manor. Continue to cultivate your friendship with Narcissa Malfoy, as well as Daphne Greengrass. And Regina Rosier, ah, she was the last Priestess that I myself served."

Liz caught her jaw before it dropped and tried to raise just one brow. She probably failed and looked gobsmacked, but she needed to practice schooling her expressions. She was most shocked that he offered this information in the form of a statement, rather than a question, and she took it as a sign of trust that she would fulfill the spirit of her oath, despite her technical testing of it.

"One last question, Miss Althea, before I send you home. Why did you cast a stasis charm on your cloak?"

She frowned at the tingle that crept into her still-sore wrist. "I don't know exactly, but I have a few ideas." It was a smouldering burn now, itching like mad, but this rambling method worked so well on veritaserum, and she wanted to see if she could use it for this, too. "I suspect a Mystery of Air was involved with our flight, and I have a notion of a fashion statement in the pattern of the teardrops." The burning subsided to the tight soreness of a bad sunburn as she finished weaving a lie full of truths. "I'm the most eligible bachelorette in the aristocracy now, so I'll be a trendsetter. I think you should consider what sort of benefit that could bring, in terms of my value as your asset."

The burn did not fully go away this time, but she swallowed the pain. If that was really his last question, then she could withstand it. The last test she needed was duration of the torture from a single lie by omission.

He shuffled her to the floo, and she spared half a moment's regret over leaving without having a few drinks with Hagrid. Next time, then.

Marlena was waiting up when Liz came through the floo. "Liebkind!" she exclaimed and then jumped up to embrace her.

The last time Marlena held onto Liz this way had been in the Hogwarts infirmary, and it triggered Liz. Her heartbeat quickened, her breath came up short, and she felt the panic rising from her gut through her heart on its way to her head.

And then Marlena buried her nose in Liz's hair, took a great sniff, and pulled back with a smile to ask, "Trinkst du nicht?"

Liz was hyperventilating, and now she was quite angry on top of her panic attack. She closed her eyes to count her breaths, and she shook with the effort to control her physiological trigger response. When she was finally steady, she opened them and pushed Marlena back with both hands. "No, I have not been drinking," she lied, thinking of the sickly sweet butterbeer. She hadn't enjoyed it anyway.

"Verzeihung, Liebkind. I was only worried for you."

She reigned in her anger. The last time Marlena had seen Liz, it was to play nursemaid for the after-effects of Cruciatus and heavy drinking. "Of course, Sister. You Attend me well, and I am grateful. But I am dreadfully tired now, and I wish to lie down before I fall down."

"Your Consort is waiting. Would you care to freshen up at my vanity?"

"No, thank you."

She really was very tired. She needed to rest, and she suspected that it would be delayed again. She did stop briefly in the bathroom, eyeing the glorious soaking tub with regret, casting a freshening charm, and taking stock of herself.

The burn at her wrist was gone, although it was still an angry pink colour. She had successfully lied by omission, at least long enough to escape the locality of the oath's limits. She remembered what Severus had said about the Mists of Mind:  _ it is an essential component of my deception for both the Dark Lord and the Headmaster _ . If she was to be a successful spy, she would need to pay attention every time he mentioned something that needed to be hidden from these masters, and also brush up her means of doing so. This felt like a good start.

Finally, she was ready to see him.

Liz stood outside her own bedroom door, hesitating. She recognized the simple alarm ward Severus preferred, and she managed to disabled it just after triggering it. She would have to practice more. For now she simply reconstructed her own favorite privacy wards.

He was sitting on her bed, reading her books. At first this made her smile, but then she could feel her expression fall as she took in more details. He was not in the delicious relaxed posture of the last time this sight greeted her, but a ramrod straight seriousness, feet on the floor, fully clothed.

He was holding the trauma booklet.

Liz gulped, pictured some steel in her spine, and approached, dropping her cloak on the vanity stool and sliding up next to Severus on the bed. She touched his shoulder, and he didn't look away from the book, so she put her other hand over the open spread, blocking his view.

When he finally looked at her, she didn't stop to consider the wretched grief in his expression. She quickly said, "Severus, I hate this book. I put it away for a reason. But if you need it, please take it. I would prefer never to see it again."

His eyes darted between the book and her. Then he slipped it into his robes.

And before he could do anything else, she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of spice and darkness, holding back the urge to weep.

His arms came up loosely around her. "We should sleep," he murmured, "You scared the shit out of me last night."

She gave him a half-laugh half-sob. He was good at that, throwing her own words back in her face at just the right moment. "I am sorry. I really am. And right now I feel like I understand the Dark Lord better than the Headmaster. I'm rather frightened, myself, at the moment, and there's at least one thing I need to talk through, to process, to be sure I don't forget or let it go. I just didn't expect..."

Then she gently pulled back and presented her wrist, still a pale pink.

"This is dark magic. It's a curse. He may have set reasonable parameters, considering what he needs from me, but that doesn't change its nature. I'm doubly upset that you performed the ritual without warning me. And it's very little comfort that he only did it because he cannot rape my mind with legilimency."

"The parameters are indeed reasonable, Persephone. Much more so than what he requires from me. Your intent matters. The location matters."

"He was also very careful about his questions, which I do appreciate. And he was extremely patient with how I tested the bounds of the curse. I can only imagine what he thinks of me after what I said about flying with Hagrid. As far as curses go --" She leaned back with a dramatic stretch and a shrug. "-- I've been under worse."

"You should call it your oath when you are with him."

"Not a chance," she shook her head, leaning back even farther. "And I'll call it torture every time it makes me burn. Unless, of course, I can swallow the pain and escape with my secrets intact." She did not look at his face until she picked herself up, snatched her cloak, and presented it to him. "In the notes on the Healer's Gift, we both suspected that the  _ Great Tears of Grief _ must be mine, and gods know I could produce them on command at this point, but I had an idea. I want you to re-check your translation. The saltwater splotches I have preserved under stasis, here, are Hagrid's tears over the loss of an old friend, possibly his oldest friend."

She saw the moment of realization as she spoke, and it warmed her to think she had finally done something right among all her stupid mistakes. Severus reached into a pocket and produced an empty vial. "May I?"

Liz nodded. After that task was complete, Liz cast a freshening charm on her cloak, and then an embroidery spell, adding outline stitches where she remembered the teardrop patterns.

"What are you doing?"

She smirked. "Rooting out a Mystery of Air and preparing for the spy business."

He let her work for a minute before asking another question, "What did you say to the Headmaster about flying with Hagrid?"

Liz ducked her head and lifted her wand away from the cloak. "You really don't want to know."

Severus tensed.

She was solemn and resumed her stitching task. "Honestly, I don't know what you'll be more angry about: the fact that I was testing the limits at all, or what I said to do so. And I do not think it is a good idea to share it with you directly so that you may understand me better, because I am terrified of what might happen if I break the confidence portion of the curse. I need you to understand that I butted heads with powerful dark magic. That oath doesn't just read my intent -- it is nuanced enough to weigh it against  _ his _ , and literally burn me when there is too great of a mismatch between the intent of his question and the intent of my response."

When Liz looked up from this speech, she thought Severus looked a bit sickly.

"What happens, Severus, when there is too great of a mismatch between his orders and your actions?"

For a couple of seconds, Severus didn't respond at all, and his eyes unfocused. Liz thought maybe he wasn't even breathing for a scary second there. But then the moment passed, he looked her straight in the eye, and he said, "I die."

Liz felt the physical reaction in her gut, but she managed to keep from cringing. "An Unbreakable Vow?"

He nodded.

She looked away, happy to have an excuse so good as to examine the work she had done with the stitching on her cloak. "I've treated a victim of that curse. The one who bound him had died, and there was no way left to fulfill the vow. It was a shocking coincidence that I was available when he heard the news. Victims of this curse normally crawl into a secluded spot and die alone, like a sick animal. There really isn't anything to be done, anyway. I tried every way I knew to ease the pain, but he was in terrible agony for over four hours. I was just thirteen years old, and I wasn't as sophisticated as a Soul Healer. I think now I could at least bring some peace, if not relief." Liz shuddered, thinking that the odds were good she'd be easing such pain for Severus before this war was over.

"Thirteen?" he asked, so softly she wasn't even sure she heard him right.

So she bristled. "Vow. Oath. Pretty words for a nasty curse."

He snorted. "This from a girl who said she would marry me."

Liz smirked, opened her mouth to reply, and then shut it again while she considered what song she could sing without the backing track. It didn't take long to pick.

_ From "Always" by Bon Jovi _

_ I'll be there 'til the stars don't shine  
_ _ Til the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme  
_ _ And when I die  
_ _ You'll be on my -- _

"Stop!" His eyes were furious. "You shut your siren pipes right now!" He backed away from her, until he was pressed against the door, while she was still sitting with her cloak on the bed. "You want to talk about magic with intent mismatches? Well here's a new Mystery of Air for my Priestess: the Siren's Song calls out according to your intent more than your feelings. For your listeners, the response is the other way around."

At first Liz had to take a moment to parse what he had just said. Her song called to his feelings, but not his intent? Ah, despite his intent. "I see," she said. "It is cruel for me to call out with intent of sharing any feelings that you had no intent to act upon."

He took one tiny step from the door and stood a little straighter.

Liz straightened her own spine and raised an eyebrow. "No intention at all?" She knew the answer to this question. The fact that he was here, that he served as Consort, that he had waited up for her tonight... Those things spoke to his intention, without his needing to say a single word. The real question was, would he lie to her about this?

"None," he said.

Ah, that was an unfortunate reply. Liz hated mistrusting him, but the closer she got to him, the more she thought she was in over her head. She gathered up the cloak, with its outlines now complete, and tossed it gently over to the vanity. She could finish it later. "Severus," she began, leaning back on the pillows and having to push aside a memory of Daphne Greengrass in the same pose. "For some time now you have intended to follow my pleasant orders, when you are able. Come here, if you want to. You know I care about your feelings, and your consent. What is my champion's desire?"

She could see the indecision, then the hesitation. She could see, in his eyes, the war between  _ should _ and  _ want _ . Eventually, he took another step away from the door, another step toward her.

Liz smiled gently and waited. She had asked her question. It was time for him to answer.

He slipped one hand into a pocket and pulled out the music box she had given to him. "Teach me. I want to learn the Air Mysteries of this box. But gods damn it all, Persephone, if you sing along I will leave and never come back."

She could live with that. When she asked for his desire, he thought of this gift. She could definitely live with that. "Most of the functions," she said, "are the same as my own master music box. You've seen some of them already."

He came closer yet, drawing his wand to demonstrate. "Resume Album  _ Rumours _ ."

Liz grinned as Stevie Nicks crooned into the room, luckily at a volume low enough that they could keep talking. She shifted her position on the pillows, trying out another one of Daphne's seductive poses. "And you've figured out some others. I am impressed."

He was looking at the box thoughtfully. "It is not so different from a muggle music player. Volume controls, Play, Pause, Resume, Stop, and Shuffle. But I can tell there are more. I found the listing function, but I don't care to be tormented by your voice reciting the names of every song, album, artist, or even playlist. You have a shocking number of playlists."

She chuckled. "I cannot say I am sorry. I took great pains to be sure the listings were correct, and that I'd always have a playlist to shuffle with my mood. If you add any music, you'll have to record yourself, or someone else, I suppose, giving the relevant information. But that's a rather advanced function, and it's much easier to simply copy an existing recording. I update mine regularly; I'll try to remind you to bring it when I can dump a load of new music onto yours."

"I'll carry it always, and I'll learn the functions for adding music to your specifications."

There, Liz thought. There was one of those signs that he did have affectionate feelings for her, and that he did have intentions to act on that sentiment. But she quickly re-focused. "The most recent function is the full text search. It may still have some kinks; if you experience any difficulties, I will want to know so I can improve it. Searching full text is difficult, not least when many songs have the same words, or when you only half-remember it." She drew her wand. " _ Search Lyrics: Rock on ancient queen _ ."

The box faded out without finishing Dreams and skipped ahead to Gold Dust Woman.

He frowned. "I was listening to that."

Liz frowned, too. "That concerns me, love. It's an album for breakups. Messy breakups. But if that's really what you want to listen to, the Previous function is something else I've been tweaking. The first time you cast, it should go back to where you left off the last song, if it was not finished, and you should be able to use it to backtrack farther, right up to the first thing the box ever played. However, I'm not sure I'd recommend that, as the first things I played while making it were various tests that would be quite dull at best, and possibly wipe out the library."

He gave her a very odd look, and then he turned his attention to the box. " _ Previous _ ."

Back to Dreams, then. Liz sighed. "Severus, I will try my best not to tell you what to listen to. It's your box. Your desire is its purpose. I made it so, and it should become more accurate the more you use it. But, please, I want you to try one more function, and I want you to listen to the entire song it plays." She tucked her wand so that she would not trigger the function herself. "Play Applicable Song."

"And what, exactly, does that function perform?"

"My original idea was to play the perfect song for a given moment, but it kept coming up far short of perfect. As it works now, it should catch a read on a feeling you direct through your wand, as long as the feeling is strong enough, and it will select an applicable song. If it turns out to be too revealing, you can just pretend you were testing the feeling, rather than consumed by it." She winked, but then frowned. "This one has at least one problem. If your feelings are too conflicted for one or two of them to come through clearly, there are plenty of songs about such situations, but it's much harder to find the right one, and usually I can think of a better one than it picks."

He regarded the box, and then Liz, and then the box again. He held it in both hands, as if it were a precious thing. He said, "I will try that one when I am alone. Will you do it now?"

Oh, sweet Circe, she was way too tired to figure out what declaration she should make right now. It had been such a long day, after such a rough night, and tomorrow was shaping up to be another epic. "Only if I may sing along. You cannot ask me for the perfect song and then expect me to keep my mouth shut."

A surge of pride and affection swept through her when Severus closed the gap and sat on the bed next to her. He seemed reluctant to let it go, but placed the music box on the bedside table. 

Liz sat up so that she could breathe a little easier for whatever was coming. Then she held her wand steady and thought of how much she wanted to go to bed, preferably in his arms, and she asked the box to " _ Play Applicable Song _ ."

She almost cried when the first notes flowed through the air. It was risky to be so blunt. She held Severus by the hand, and she took the chance to sing along.

_ "Luna" by The Smashing Pumpkins _

_ What moon songs, do you sing your baby?  
_ _ What sunshine do you bring?  
_ _ Who belongs; Who decides who's crazy  
_ _ Who rights wrongs where others cling? _

_ I'll sing for you, if you want me to  
_ _ I'll give to you  
_ _ And it's a chance I'll have to take  
_ _ And it's a chance I'll have to break _

_ I go along, just because I'm lazy  
_ _ I go along to be with you  
_ _ And those moon songs, that you sing your baby  
_ _ Will be the songs to see you through _

_ I'll hear your song, if you want me to  
_ _ I'll sing along  
_ _ And it's a chance I'll have to take  
_ _ And it's a chance I'll have to break _

_ I'm in love with you; I'm in love with you  
_ _ I'm in love with you, and you _

_ I'm in love with you; So in love...  
_ _ With you _

_ I'm in love with you; So in love!   
_ _ I'm so in love ... With you _

Liz was scared of what he might say next, but she was happy. She was happy with the music box. She was happy with the song it matched to her directed feelings. She was happy that Severus was still in her bedroom and hadn't fled in the face of this song full of declaration.

There was plenty more they should still discuss, but, for the moment, there was really nothing else to say.

He reached out first, stroking her face. She reached next, deftly undoing his top button. They undressed each other slowly. It was sensual, sure, but it was more sweet. Both in their undergarments, Liz couldn't help letting out a big yawn.

Severus smirked at her, and then he crawled into her bed and beckoned her to join him. Tucked safely in her favorite place under his arm, Persephone fell asleep fast.

She slept well, but he was gone when she awoke. He had left a stack of books on her vanity, and she sighed at being assigned homework. They had a date inside her mind tonight, so she had better take these along today. Liz didn't want to disappoint him with her ignorance again. 

Liz was the first to arrive at Healer's Care Haven, and that suited her just fine. She came through the floo, so she didn't have to touch Ash's wards, other than the floo lock that was already keyed to her. She just went straight up to her office to study.

It was mid-morning when Ash knocked on her door. She lifted the wards, and he stepped into the threshold to say, "Healer Althea, I just got back from Mentago Home, and Healer Kayson has arrived with his parents."

"Are any of the other guests here?"

"Not yet."

Liz sighed and shut the book she currently had open, dropping her notes face-down on top of it. "Come on in, Master Avery, and tell me what you learned about Mentago."

He shuffled over to the chair that sat across Liz's desk. "Good news, really," he said, pulling a scroll from one pocket and searching the others. "I made some notes on their procedures. Somewhere here I've got the guidebook I lifted from the Head of Activities Programming. Give me two days and someone for night duty, and we can be ready for Sila."

Liz blinked in surprise. That was fast. "You stole their activities guide?"

He shrugged.

"Fine. Whatever. I'm sorry, I knew there was something I forgot in the rush this weekend, and it's Ken Trace. He works a shift 9 to 4 at Fatin's Looks, so we can talk to him then. Is the residence large enough to make it a two-room flat? Trace might be willing to work both jobs if we offer him lodging like that."

"Sure. It looks like you're busy. I can do the renovation and recruit this Ken Trace the moment he clocks out at Fatin's Looks."

Tempting. This was something she should probably take care of, but she did want to get back to her study of mind magic before tonight. "All right. Address him as  _ Trace _ . No Mister, or anything else. Just Trace. Tell him I said, er,  _ We found a way you could follow Mistress Siladora _ . He'll remember talking to me about that."

"Can do. And you can authorize the transfer with St. Mungo's. But now, let's go down and cut a ribbon."

Jason and his parents were already outside, and Liz felt tears spring up in her eyes at the pride they all radiated.

Sniffing, she looked past them and saw Madam Pomfrey walking up with Madam Rosmerta. "Miss Althea!" the healer called out, rushing up to shake her hand. "I am sorry, dear, for how cold I was the last time we spoke. I've been telling Albus for years that we needed better connections to all the private practice healers outside of St. Mungo's, and then just yesterday he came to my office to tell me the good news about your setting up shop here."

"Sure, Poppy," Rosmerta teased. "Your pleasure has nothing to do with an excuse to come to the village."

"Oh, pish, Rosy." Madam Pomfrey waved a dismissive hand and leaned in close to Liz. "But I would not mind one bit if our collaborations might be discussed over a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks!"

"And I wouldn't mind," said Rosmerta, "if an occasional musical performance could draw in a crowd. Business has been a little slow lately, other than the night the Warlocks were on my stage. You should come to the Hogsmeade Merchants Association meetings, to get the big picture of what's been happening here. First Tuesdays every month."

"Oh, erm, thank you."

Ash butted in, "Is everyone here?"

Liz looked to Pomfrey, who said, "Right. Albus sends his regrets, and I have not seen Severus since he delivered my inventory a few days ago."

Shrugging, Liz turned back to Ash. "I don't expect Cissy, so we're only waiting on any bureaucrats from the Ministry or St. Mungo's, I think."

"They're not coming," said Jason, turning away from his folks. "Seems I managed to burn a bridge or two after all. Having admitting privileges was always a long shot, but we definitely shouldn't count on it now."

Ash mumbled something to himself, counting on his fingers, "I'll floo Werner. Let's do this thing."

While Ash popped back inside to make the call, Jason's parents poured champagne.

Soon enough, Jason and Liz were holding either end of a thick red ribbon, and Ash was holding an oversized golden scissor. "On this, the twenty-ninth day of July in the year 1996, I hereby open Healer's Care Haven for business. Healer Jason Kayson and Healer Liz Althea have made it their mission to relieve suffering, break curses, and save lives. It is my great honor to support this noble cause."

In one snip, the ribbon was sheared in two, and the six people not holding a scrap of it clapped politely. 

Werner snapped a photo when Ash raised a glass.

It was all so... normal? Liz really wasn't sure what to make of this level of ceremony. Definitely too happy for the serious work they were about to take on. Everyone was smiling, but Liz couldn't do it. She remembered what she told George Weasley the other day.  _ Always the guests, never the hosts. _ She had always gone to her patients, and now they'd be coming to her. Jason would be empowered and feel in control. Liz was starting to feel claustrophobic, with no escape...

"Fraulein?" Werner murmured in her ear.

She plastered on a smile. She hoped it looked like a smile. Her eyes re-focused on the crowd, and she realized she was standing back from where the others had formed a circle to talk.

Werner gently took her elbow, the arm with one hand still clutching half a ribbon, and led her inside, with barely an "Excuse us," directed to the group.

Liz saw the way Jason frowned at them, but then turned and walked with Werner all the way up to her office.

He directed her to sit in her new chair, a position of authority. How often had she sat in his office, with the roles reversed?

She laid the ribbon down on the desk, her hands shaking. "It had to be red," she whispered.

"What?"

"Nevermind." She blinked, hard, and then gave Werner her full attention. "I'm sorry. That --" She gestured broadly in the direction of the front door. "-- was just a little too weird for me."

"You really didn't want to do this. Any of this, did you?"

She shook her head. "There are lots of good reasons I should, and at least one that means I must. I just, I don't  _ celebrate _ this part of my life. I  _ dread _ it."

A wry smile turned Werner's lips upward. "I think that is a good thing, Priestess. You should not look forward to meeting broken people and feeling responsible for their well-being."

Her own smile felt a lot easier now. "Exactly."

"Do you have some work to keep you occupied today?"

She glanced pointedly at the stack of books on the side of the desktop.

"Very good. I will go back and make your excuses. For what it's worth, I think you are going to do good work here."

"Danke Schoen."


	19. Cut That Little Child Inside of Me and Such a Part of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Sorry not sorry, but "Taste of India" was on Aerosmith's album Nine Lives, released in 1997. The scene was completely written before I realized I goofed, and it was just too right to pick something else.

#  P1Ch19 Playlist

  * Title track: "Disarm" by the Smashing Pumpkins 1993
  * "Dancing Days" by Led Zeppelin 1973, as performed by STP 1994
  * "Taste of India" by Aerosmith 1997 (see author's note about period)
  * _he...asked it for an easy listening playlist on low volume_  




Chapter 19 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/55aZAj9mdEtYRRyyNpAUVh>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 19: Cut That Little Child Inside of Me and Such a Part of You

Liz did not come down for lunch. She drained the two glasses of champagne that she and Werner had brought up to the office, and she was pleasantly buzzed as she cross-referenced the notes she already made.

By three o'clock, she was feeling much more like herself, and she dared to come down to stretch her legs.

Jason and his parents were in the lobby, still visiting, with Ash at the desk doing his own reading, and not-so-subtly eavesdropping. Liz nearly ducked right back out, thinking fondly of the new basement potions lab, where she had already moved her limited supplies from the Blumwand basement. But then the front door opened.

They had a patient.

A witch with long waves of dirty blond hair brought a boy of about 7 or 8 years through the door, covered in blemishes and scratching at his neck. "Rosy said you might help."

Liz smirked, and wondered if Rosmerta would give them  _ more _ or  _ less _ business in return for getting Liz on the stage.

"Sure," said Jason, eagerly snatching an intake form from the front desk before Ash could do it. "Both of you can come into Exam Room JK1, and I'll have a look."

Realizing she was about to be left alone with Ash and Jason's parents, Liz thought fast. "I'll pop down to the pharmacy and select a few likely balms, and a general anti-itch cream."

She knew Jason would probably have them already in the cupboard in his exam room, but she didn't wait for anyone to respond, and she took about five minutes longer than the two minutes she needed to do as she said she would. She lingered on the painkillers and snagged a gentle analgesic while she was at it. When she knocked on the door to JK1, Jason was looking quite harassed when he opened it. He waved her in and went to the cupboard, where he had a reference book open. "I have no bloody idea what this is. Do you recognize the lesions?"

After setting her loot next to the book, she approached the boy on the bench and said. "Hi, I'm Liz. Can I look?"

The boy nodded and held out his arms. The bright yellow splotches were tinged with red around the edges, and they were more serious further up his arms and on his neck.

"So, what's your name?"

"Johnny," he said, absently scratching his neck again.

Liz conjured a cold pack. "Well, Johnny, it looks like this is very itchy. Can you hold this on the place where it itches the most?"

He took it eagerly, but it was he was awkward trying to hold it on the back of his neck. His mother set aside the intake form, held out her hand, and Johnny gave it to her. She slid up next to her son and carefully pulled at the neckline of his shirt.

"Ouch!"

As mother and son glared at each other, Liz smiled gently. "Perhaps we should take that shirt off entirely, if it hurts against your skin." She drew her wand. "May I?"

Shirt gone, Johnny's mother gasped, so Jason and Liz both came around to take a better look.

There were large lines across the boy's back, puffy and yellow in the center, tinged red on the edges. Two perfectly criss-crossed from the base of his neck downward along the edge of his shoulder blades. Another laid perfectly horizontal across the middle. Liz felt a chill as she considered the ways this pattern might have been applied.

Jason scratched his chin. "Hmm, Johnny, did you scrape your back on something?"

The boy shook his head, but Liz had come around again in time to see the way he bit his lip and gave his mother a nervous glance.

She looked him in the eyes and said, "It's all right if something strange happened. You won't be in trouble. We just need to know what happened to try to fix it. Whatever touched your back is the key. Whatever it was made of, like a new fabric for overalls or suspenders, or anything else."

He held her gaze for a few seconds, and then his eyes darted briefly to this mother, and he shook his head again. "I don't remember anything like that."

"It's all right," she said again. "Let me tell you about my hands." She held them out for his inspection. "When I was about your age, I learned that touching people who were tired or stressed could make them feel better. Later, I became a Hand Healer, and I can fix all sorts of nasty problems with these. In time, I learned to use this connection to find answers that ordinary healers can't see. I'd like to touch your back now. Is that all right with you?"

Johnny looked to his mother, who looked to Jason, who said, "Healer Althea's hands are a miracle, Madam. Did Rosmerta not say so?"

She eyed Liz suspiciously, but she nodded, and Johnny offered Liz a smile.

Liz began simply with her fingertips on the boy's shoulder, and she had to hold steady when the wave of his aura rolled over her, and this peek into his soul had all the hallmarks of a thoroughly damaged child.

She knew them well.

But she focused on the task at hand, sliding her palm directly over the point where the largest lines crossed his back, and the boy hissed.

Liz hardly heard it, but automatically said, "Sorry, I will give you something for the pain soon." Frowning, she more carefully felt along those lines. "There are traces of it. A rope, I think. Healer Kayson, do you know a summoning spell that would be good for retrieving small curly strings embedded in a painful wound?"

"If we could pick a direction to pull them, maybe."

"Right, the  _ apstulo _ charm. But not all of them will be the same orientation. There will be some tearing, which I suppose I can fix afterward, no problem. Numb it first, then?"

He nodded, and Liz turned to go back to the pharmacy for an appropriate numbing agent.

By the time she got back to JK1 once again, Jason had filled in the boy on what they were about to do, and he was laying face-down on the exam bench. His mother was hovering and clutching the paperwork, but Liz noted that it still wasn't filled in.

Jason looked directly at Liz, as they both donned dragonhide gloves. "I'll cast and collect. You heal the lacerations and take the first look at the results."

While Liz applied the numbing cream, she said gently, "Johnny, it will be faster and hurt less if you can stay perfectly still. If I was the one on the table, I'd want to hold mum's hand to help with that."

She couldn't see his face, but she did note the speed at which his hand shot out for his mother's comfort, and the quick affirmative response from the woman, grasping his hand and saying the first words Liz had heard her speak: "That's my brave boy."

A minute later, Liz was peeling her gloves back off and nodding at Jason to indicate her ready state.

"Here we go," he said, aligned his wand, gripped an empty hazard sample jar, and cast.

Liz winced when the boy twitched, unsure if she had chosen a strong enough numbing agent, but she kept her head and laid her hands on the tiny spots of blood that appeared, needing only a few seconds to close those fresh openings. Then she stepped back to wait, but she saw spots of blood dotting the back of Johnny's thighs, soaking through his trousers, and she discreetly cast a nonverbal healing charm instead of stripping him further to use her hands. It might not be as effective, but she would spare him the need to be nearly nude.

She didn't expect anything to happen with the lesions immediately, and yet, when she looked up again, just after Jason capped the jar, he came up next to Liz and gasped at the reaction she too was seeing.

The yellow and red irritation was fading fast, and then the lines shrunk, in both length and girth, until the boy was left with a little red scar, a loop of plaited rope, twisted into an infinity symbol, the crossed lines at the exact point where the wound had crossed his back.

"I'm going to touch there," she announced, before doing so. She was relieved to feel the lifted weight off the boy's soul, and she even managed to smile when she realized what this was. "You can sit up again, and get dressed when you are ready, but first..." She conjured a hand mirror and helped him angle it with the wall mirror so that he could see. "I think the rope was cursed, not poisoned. This is a magical scar, and every magical scar is unique. Some are only reminders, but the infinity symbol is very powerful. It is also as two-sided as it appears, implying on one hand boundless protection, but on the other hand endless torment."

Jonny's mother sobbed, and everyone turned to see the hand at her mouth. She shook her head and whispered, "There has to be an end."

Liz nodded. "Choose protection, if you can. Johnny, I know you are very young. I'm still a little young, myself. But we don't always get to choose our pain and suffering, only how we react to it. Does your back still hurt or itch at all?"

"No," he said, looking in the mirror again with a serious expression.

She looked to the mother. "Is there anything else you think we should know before we discharge you?"

A steely look appeared in her eyes, but she looked nervously at Johnny's back, and then she snatched up the quill and the intake form. She didn't actually fill it out, though. She didn't even look, she just wrote in very large, obvious letters, the word YES, even as she said, "No, there is nothing else."

Liz understood. "Then we will do a follow up tomorrow. Any time during our posted hours. Or, perhaps tonight yet..?"

She could feel Jason's eyes on her in question, but the woman said, "Tomorrow, before lunch."

After the two were out the door, Jason turned to Liz and asked, "So, what exactly are we doing for them tomorrow?"

"I only wish we were ready for this now, but we're not. Hopefully we can find out who tied down Johnny with a cursed rope, and I'm going to ask an auror friend to be available. Less optimistically, I'd like to do a more thorough exam to see if I can determine the extent of his physical abuse."

Jason frowned. "You've had to do that before, haven't you?"

Liz took a deep breath, unsure if she should say and do what she was about to. "Based on the patterns of the marks on his back and legs, I think this is how he was restrained." She leaned over the exam table and conjured a rope, twirling her wand to wind it around herself, not really securing to the table but draping it clearly enough to show the idea.

Bent as she was, she didn't quite catch the look on Jason's face when he said, "Merlin the Sorcerer, Apollo the Physician, and Liz the Healer, do forgive me for even thinking that you look rather tempting that way." Then she heard him gag and retch.

Vanishing the rope and straightening her spine, she was pleased to see he had not actually vomited, and she would not have to clean up his sick.

"Ugh," he groaned, scrubbing his palm over his face while Liz conjured a glass of water for him, "I suppose I should be pleasantly surprised to not have had such a case in my six years at St. Mungo's. One day in private practice. Our first day, Liz."

She shrugged. "More likely, any such obvious cases would be handled at intake, and you are too innocent yourself to suss out the less obvious ones." She tried to smile. "For now, consider it a good thing that this squicks you, Jason. I've been seeing some pretty awful things those same six years, and I was a little worried that you are the more detached between us." She shook her head. "I really need to get to Tonks, if I can, and, I think I have an idea of a safe house for Johnny and his mum if there's an abuser in their home."

"What can I do?"

"Give me a backup idea for a safe house. Get information on what St. Mungo's does for abuse cases. Find Werner while I find Tonks. Really, Jason, there's about a million things we could do, but the most important is that someone needs to be here in case they come back tonight. When an abuser catches wind that their victim is preparing to leave and get help, that's a very dangerous time, and I'm really afraid that the better thing to do would have been not to let them out the door until we could find them a safer place to go."

Jason picked up the intake form. "She said her name was Shelby, but she didn't give us anything else. What happens if they don't come back?"

"We hope Rosmerta knows more, since she's the one who brought them here." She glanced at the clock and started heading out. "Bloody hell, Ash is probably gone already to go recruiting our night staff. Please stay. I know it will feel horrible, like doing nothing, but really, Jason, someone has to be here if they come back tonight. When I'm done with the floo, try to call Werner and ask if my parents' house is still for sale and whether the heat is off well enough for someone to live there. Otherwise, just sit tight."

"All right."

Tonks was home and invited her through. "Er, Tonks, are you ok?"

Eyes puffy and red, she sniffed and said, "Don't worry about it."

Liz hoped her face expressed minor concern with her disbelief.

"The full moon."

"Ah. Right. Well, this ought to distract you, though it might not be any better."

Tonks listened carefully as Liz explained what happened, frowning deeper and deeper as she gave more details. Then she sighed and said, "Even when the ministry is functioning properly, they don't really have a great track record on this kind of thing. There is s'posed to be a support service under M.L.E., but if a dark wizard was cursing the boy or using cursed restraints, then I might be able to get the Aurory on point. Moody should be on duty right now. He would at least know what the official responses would be, if we take it to M.L.E."

"Mad-Eye Moody? No way."

"Think about it, Liz," she suggested gently. "The Moody you knew was an imposter. The real deal is a veteran auror with a personal experience being locked up and abused. Maybe not the same way as this boy, but for ten months he was restrained, malnourished, and had his hair taken for polyjuice."

Liz swallowed hard, then bit her lip while she thought it through. "Yes, I see how that might make him sympathetic. But also I don't want to further traumatize  _ him _ either."

Tonks smiled and reminded her, "Veteran auror with plenty of traumatic incidents."

"All the more reason not to ask him to be responsible for something that might still trigger him. This only makes me think we should try proper channels first."

"You are too kind, Liz," she said, shaking her head. "How about this. I'll talk to Mad-Eye, just enough to find out where he thinks we should take it next."

Liz nodded. "All right."

"Go on back to Healer's Care Haven to wait, just in case they come back tonight. I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

That was probably going to have to be fine. Liz still needed to figure out the safe house.

Back at the Haven, Jason was pacing when Liz arrived. "Werner says there's no way that the house will be safe enough. He said the M.L.E. report did not match what he and Snape found regarding magical traces. What does that mean?"

Liz paced, too, but her feet shuffled in a swooping dance. "Way more than I was prepared to know right now." She took a deep breath to try to focus. "I guess, for now it means that we can't use that house. Honestly, I'm not sure what else to do."

"He also said that you have the means to simply buy more property, but securing it might still be a problem."

Freezing mid-step, Liz said, "Of course. For tomorrow, they can stay in the residence upstairs. In the meantime, we await word from the Aurory, and if their response isn't good enough, then we can figure out something else. I'm going to pop upstairs and clean up what I was working on earlier. I'll be back down in a bit."

Thankfully, by the time she was done, Jason was knocking on her office door, parchment clutched triumphantly in his hand. "Aurors Moody and Tonks will be here tomorrow morning. The Aurory has their own safe houses, and M.L.E. has a social worker on staff to connect victims with resources to help."

Oh that was good news indeed.

"I'll stay tonight, just in case. You should go home Liz. Get some rest."

She didn't need to be told twice.

It was past dinner time, and she murmured a noncommittal response when Marlena asked if she had supped. She wasn't hungry anyway.

Severus was already waiting in her room, and he gathered her up in his arms and held her tightly.

This initiation of their contact was so out of the ordinary it made Liz a touch nervous, and she asked, hesitantly, "Did something happen?"

"No, for once, it was a quiet day," he rumbled into her ear. "Busy, but more tedious than anything else. Welcome home, Persephone. How was your first day at Healer's Care Haven?"

Shoving all thoughts of Shelby and Johnny to the back burner, she relaxed and smiled. Ah, she could get used to coming home with him waiting up. "I spent most of the morning studying. I had one consult that didn't go well, and I just wish I didn't have so many loose ends to tie up. The most interesting thing, that you need to know, is that mum can be transferred in two days."

He tensed. "She predicted that date."

Liz nodded, glad that she didn't have to spell it out.

"Fuck."

"Quite. Severus, I'm starting to get a bad feeling about that day."

This time he nodded.

"I still want you to start the Healer's Gift, but I don't know anymore if I can help. I just, I think I will have to do something about my mother."

"If you cannot stay for the entire first stage of brewing, it will be a waste."

She pulled back so that she could discard her cloak and outer robe. While she did so, she said, "So, I have to admit, I was already concerned about that. I have never made a potion that required three hours straight on my feet, singing with no break and no room for error."

"Good, you caught up on the notes. That was my own concern, Persephone, that you would not be prepared. But you have done stage shows longer than three hours."

"Carefully crafted for appropriate breaks between sets, seated songs, and other tricks to keep myself fresh and ready. This is different. This is an endurance test, and I'm already so tired." She gave him what she was sure had to be a needy, pathetic look. "I am so tired, and so scared, and I don't want to screw up yet again." She stared past him and whispered, "I always make such costly mistakes."

"What time is the transfer?"

Liz perched on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, wallowing a bit in her solo pity party. "One o'clock," she managed.

"Then we will finish the first stage in the morning. You will do well, and you will recover over the lunch hour. I will go with you to St. Mungo's to help oversee the transfer."

"Ash will take me. That's a non-issue. I still don't have your confidence in my stamina."

Severus finally came over to her and sat beside her. "There are potions for that."

She scoffed. "The kinds of stimulants that always end in a crash? Right when I need my wits about me for my mother? I can't just take uppers all day." She pinned him with a glare. "I hope you don't."

He didn't answer, but he reached to hold her hand.

Liz sighed, and used the fingertips on her free hand to stroke gentle paths down his elegant hands. "And tonight, we have to be careful. The maze in my head is not a game. It is not a place to play. It is dangerous, and there are two things I want to show you and then we need to stop. The dark magic will pull us down. Seductive, I think was the word you used. For Merlin's sake do not do anything in the Mists that will allow you to taste them, or me, because if you get lusty for the dark magic I don't know if I can be strong enough to stop you."

"Stronger than you know."

She huffed. "Weak and insecure, and particularly vulnerable to you. You can't have any delusions about this, Severus, or we will not be safe."

"It's just a few memory bubbles."

Liz shook her head. "We'll start with a bubble, yes, that is the first thing. But I think you'll understand, after you see it, why we have to go for a personal visit to inspect a web trap."

Finally she could feel the change in his posture, his grip, and his attitude. He asked, "Have you ever done this before?"

"Once. Once should have been enough, but he was not working with me to break curses. He really just wanted to taste the mist. It was the last thing he ever tasted."

"I see."

She didn't have time for any doubts. In fact... "There are a few things we need to be sure about. Things I believe are true but we must be certain. Do try not to be offended that I ask. First, do you consider yourself a master legilimens?"

"Yes."

"Do you know how to anchor with your wand?"

"Yes."

"Any other anchors?"

His eyes narrowed.

She rolled hers and added, "... that you care to tell me about?"

"No. But I do have a hidden talisman I will use as a backup. This had better not be dangerous enough to need it."

"Fine," she said, trying to sound irritable but actually quite relieved that such an expert had the same sense of priority on the safety of the ritual. She continued with the interrogation. "Did you learn occlumency first, before legilimency?"

"Yes."

"Did you draw up your own Mists?"

"Yes."

Liz took a few deep, steadying breaths. "By drawing them up yourself, you must be very aware of the boundaries and depths of your own Misty Place. Is that right?"

He nodded but frowned deeply, and she figured he knew where she was going next.

"That is not true for me. The Trap Weaver dug deep, and pulled on all the darkness in my soul. I suspect that he separated something fundamental, splitting the light and dark, the yin and yang. I've learned since that the Mists of Mind are the aura of secret darkness seeping from the places of evil in our souls. My darkness was neither delicately corralled nor set up with a bargain, but violently ripped from the light. It was  _ forced _ to serve a purpose, protecting the precious knowledge, but to do so the darkest mists must stay contained beyond the traps." She hesitated, wondering if she needed to add this speculative bit, and then decided to go for it. "I suspect this is the true source of my  _ white light _ , as you have put it, and the source of my skill as a Soul Healer. There is darkness in me, just as anyone, but it is trapped, and those who stay on the surface of this existence only ever see the purest light."

At this point, Severus shifted his gaze from her face to their hands, still joined between them.

She continued, "Any attempt to evade or disable the web traps carries a risk of my lightness and darkness clashing in a rather explosive manner. We'd both be caught up in the backlash, and probably pitched into madness. Furthermore, I am dangerously undisciplined. You are not just a master legilimens but also a master occlumens. I am neither. If we make one wrong step, I may not be able to get us back on the path to sanity."

During a long pause, Liz focused again on her breathing, pleased to note they were breathing in sync.

She drew up her nerve for one last question. "Do you still wish to proceed?"

"No." He pulled his hand away from hers and stood to pace. "I understand now," he said slowly, "something I read in your notes on the seduction ritual. Body, Mind, Heart, with the Mind between. There's a separation, a dichotomy, which we have not fully identified. Describe to me the memory bubble you intended to pop."

"This memory was the first to make me realize I needed a discipline I sorely lack. It is the one that I do manage to keep locked up tightly, more than the rest. Every time it is examined, new tangles are added to the web traps."

"Then we should skip its review and examine the traps directly."

Liz shook her head. "There's a pattern to the weaving. But I was unprepared the last time I dared to watch, and I did not recognize it. I have an idea now, but I will have to review it again."

He stopped pacing to give her a searching look.

She took half a moment to admire his profile and consider her words before she continued, "I understand completely, if you think this is too dangerous. I will not ask you to ignore the possible consequences, or override your expertise in legilimency or the dark arts. But I do have to try to get a better answer, tonight, for the question the Headmaster could not complete yesterday. You remember, don't you?"

He nodded, and then he seated himself again next to her. "Tell me about the drawings in your notes."

"The sloppy one, that's as close as I dared to remembering without triggering the new tangles. The neat alchemical symbols are the more recent idea. It's a dance of Fire and Air, witnessed by the sum of All the alchemical elements."

He produced the relevant parchment, and he held it so they could both see.

She pointed, "Because I am right-handed, my half-remembered doodle spun out clockwise. But I think the Trap Weaver was left-handed, and if I get the direction wrong, I will be making another one of those costly mistakes."

Severus was silent for a moment, and then he took her chin in his hand, abandoning the parchment on the floor at their feet. He looked directly into her eyes, and the expression was open approval. "Persephone, the pattern is Fire, then Air, then All. These might also be a direct correspondence to Body, Mind, Heart."

Her heart skipped a beat. Could it be that easy? Severus took his hand away from her face, but she grasped it in both of her own. "The tangles must be applied the other way. What you described is the reverse: the unlocking, the untangling, the un-Silencing." She could feel the force of the Silence curses now, seizing up the muscles in her face. Liz was actually a bit surprised they had managed this much, despite how careful she had been to balance what they already knew against what they still needed to know.

"We should not release the traps."

She nodded, and even though it hurt, she spoke, "Agreed. The last time we talked about this you mentioned disabling them, but I think that would be one of those costly mistakes. We must modify the ritual to break the Silence without releasing all the darkness."

Severus drew her close, wrapping his arms around her. "You would be incredible, Persephone, as your namesake, as Queen of the Darkness. Truly magnificent. But you would also be terrifying. Your own suffering is enough, but you bear so much for so many others, that if you unleashed the true depths of your rage, I don't think many of us would survive the slaughter."

Liz knew he was right. She had thought the same thing.

"This has given me a few new leads, and a few new temptations." The rumble of his voice in her ear took on a pleasant tone. "But we are closer, much closer now, to understanding the ramifications." He leaned back, but did not let her go, holding her tight with one arm and stroking her face. "I have also come to understand, my Priestess, that Smoke is a Mystery which joins Air and Fire."

Ah, she loved him so. They couldn't be joined in lust, not quite yet, but he was asking about other ways. And she really needed to mellow out after what happened at the clinic today. "Let's get high," she said.

With reverence, in silence, they passed the pipe.

After cashing the bowl, Liz busied herself with cleaning it and the other tools of the toke, very aware of Severus watching her. She rather enjoyed getting stoned with this man, and anything worth doing is worth doing right. She cleared a space on the vanity, tapping the bowl out gently, as not to damage the delicate glasswork of the phoenix or the fire maple of the furniture. She conjured a clean microfiber cloth (with a quick thank-you prayer to muggle technology) and gently buffed the clean portions, then circled the rim before dipping into the bowl to take one good swipe. 

The resin was a bit cakey, but a lot of it came away. That would do. She shook out the cloth, whispering a vanishing spell upon the ash, and then she gave Amalaki a little kiss on the beak. "Thank you, old friend," she said aloud, thinking fondly of Bardolf Sayer.

When she turned back to him, weed box neatly repacked and replaced, Severus had an expression that Liz was growing to know as his thoughtful frown. It was a look he donned shortly before asking a hard question. And this time, he did not disappoint. "Air Priestess, is what you told the Headmaster really what you think of Fire?"

She had a pretty good idea of what he was really asking. She had anticipated an exchange like this as soon as she had danced Sila's triple-symbol. She hoped this little speech she had cooked up would come out all right through her mellow perception shift. "He is just one side of fire. The cosmic cycle-of-life kind of fire. A cold and distant fire, right up until it consumes you. It might be a connection between Fire and Stars -- while Dumbledore's primary element is Fire, I suspect that there's a certain celestial element always at the back of his mind."

She shuddered, not daring to get any closer to the truth about Dumbledore serving Mistress Rosier, and then shook her head to clear it.

"Air is the same," she whispered, before raising her voice to resume a normal speaking volume. "There is such a thing as a cold north wind, and also prevailing winds governed by Earth’s place and movement in the cosmos, but I like to think I am just a warm breeze, something you'll want just a little bit longer."

Then she dropped onto her pillows in the most seductive pose she had seen Daphne Greengrass perform on the obscene Malfoy chaise.

"And you, love, you are also a different side of fire. You are the precise control under the cauldron, the illumination in the darkness, the burning ambition that comes from within, and," she briefly bit her bottom lip in a way that felt totally natural, like maybe she had always done it even before she saw how seductive it was on the face of her Housemate, "my Consort, you are the heat that warms my body, mind, and heart."

Liz wasn't sure which one of them moved first (It was her!), but both sprang for each other, toppling onto the bed side-by-side. Their arms both reached as close as they could hold -- she could feel the bite of his strong grip around her, and she had no doubts that she was holding him just as tight. She kissed him, teasing his lips with her tongue and moaning when he opened them, allowing her a quick taste before pulling back. "I --" he let the word hang.

"You?" she asked softly, a bit dazed.

"I can't."

She pressed her lips together, hard, to keep from begging. She was completely out of control in her lust, and she could feel his erection where it pressed into her hip. No. She needed to keep her head. "The Body and Heart are ready. The Mind is an obstacle between. But," she kissed his closed mouth gently, swiping her tongue across his lower lip, "I have never felt so safe with a legilimancer. My champion, my consort, my love. I trust you completely, and I am ready when you are."

"Ah, but I am not." He pressed his forehead to hers, but he closed his eyes. She was unsure if he was unwilling or unable to look at her. She watched his lips for the same erotic gestures that she had only just learned, and while he spoke, she realized that one of them was in her name, and it made her panties wet when he said it. "I have two leads I really must follow on the ritual. Keep studying, Persephone, and I have notes on this, too, that could use the eye of an arithmancer."

"May I have them?"

"No. Attempt an independent analysis. If yours continues to match mine, and you can find me a trustworthy arithmancer, then we may all discuss it together." He pressed her back into the soft bedding, snogged her to breathless, and then backed up to a sitting position, pulling out his music box. "For now, I am ready to find out what your magic can declare on my behalf."

Liz was still trying to catch her breath as he asked the music box for an applicable song. And when it began, she was ready to swing her hips and spin about, while he made himself comfortable on the bed to watch. As she danced, she wondered what feelings specifically he sent to the box that it should choose this song.

_ "Dancing Days" as covered by the Stone Temple Pilots _

_ Dancing days are here again  
_ _ As the summer evenings grow  
_ _ I got my flower, I got my power  
_ _ I got a woman who knows _

_ I said it's alright, You know it's alright  
_ _ I guess it's all in my heart  
_ _ You'll be my only, my one and only  
_ _ Is that the way it should start? _

_ Crazy ways are evident  
_ _ In the way that you're wearing your clothes  
_ _ Sippin' booze is precedent  
_ _ As the evening starts to glow _

_ You know it's alright, I said it's alright  
_ _ You know it's all in my heart  
_ _ You'll be my only, my one and only  
_ _ Is that the way it should start? _

_ You told your mamma I'd get you home  
_ _ But you didn't say I had no car  
_ _ I saw a lion he was standing alone  
_ _ With a tadpole in a jar _

_ You know it's alright, I said it's alright  
_ _ I guess it's all in my heart, my heart  
_ _ You'll be my only, my one and only  
_ _ Is that the way it should start? _

_ So dancing days are here again  
_ _ As the summer evenings grow  
_ _ You are my flower, you are my power  
_ _ You are my woman who knows _

_ I said it's alright, You know it's alright  
_ _ You know it's all in my heart  
_ _ You'll be my only, my one and only  
_ _ Is that the way it should start? _

When the song ended, Severus looked thoughtful, and said, "I could have sworn that was a Led Zeppelin song."

Liz smirked. "Originally, yes. But I daresay S.T.P. does it better. When you need me to shut up and dance, rather than sing along, give me Scott Weiland to listen to."

He chuckled, "That  _ was _ the idea."

She rolled her eyes and stepped close, leaning over him, one hand on the bed next to his thigh. "Of course it was. Nothing to do with what's in your heart as the summer evenings grow." She dropped a chaste kiss on his lips and then withdrew to stand straight up.

"Your turn," he said, gesturing to the box. "Dance for me again."

Oh, she liked this game. My turn, your turn. Truly a great way to make a playlist between lovers. Her pick now was a song she'd been thinking about ever since the belly dancing class with Tonks.

_ "Taste of India" by Aerosmith _

_ God I love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Lingers on the tip of my tongue  
_ _ Gotta love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Blame it on the beat of the drum _

_ God I love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Lingers on the tip of my tongue  
_ _ Gotta know that what's gotten into you  
_ _ Any cat man do when it's done _

_ Yeah, she's got that kind of love incense  
_ _ That lives in her back room  
_ _ And when it mixes with the funk my friend  
_ _ It turns into perfume _

_ When you are born, You're afraid of the darkness  
_ _ Then you're afraid of the light  
_ _ But I'm not afraid, When I dance with my shadow  
_ _ This time I'm gonna get it right  
_ _ To think of what I'll get tonight _

_ Just lookin' for a little taste (A Taste Of India)  
_ _ She'll steal the smile right off your face _

_ Her Yin and Yang  
_ _ Is just the thing  
_ _ She's unpredictable my friend _

_ God I love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Lingers on the tip of my tongue  
_ _ Gotta know that what's gotten into you  
_ _ Any cat man do when it's done _

_ It's like your first taste love of vindaloo  
_ _ That sets your heart on fire  
_ _ And if you let her stuff get into you  
_ _ It will be all that you desire _

_ When you make love to a sweet tantric priestess  
_ _ You drink in the bliss of delight  
_ _ But I'm not afraid, When I dance with her shadow  
_ _ This time I'm gonna get it right  
_ _ She's gonna whet my appetite  
_ _ Just lookin' for a little taste (A Taste Of India)  
_ _ She'll steal the smile right off your face _

_ She a friend of mine  
_ _ She a concubine  
_ _ The sweetest wine  
_ _ I gotta make her mine _

_ God I love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Lingers on the tip of my tongue  
_ _ Gotta love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Blame it on the beat of the drum _

_ God I love the sweet taste of India  
_ _ Lingers on the tip of my tongue  
_ _ Gotta know that what's gotten into you  
_ _ Any cat man do when it's done _

_ Just think of what I'll get tonight  
_ _ She's gonna whet my appetite  
_ _ Just lookin' for a little taste (A Taste Of India)  
_ __ She'll steal the smile right off your face

Liz was breathing heavily by the time she had finished dancing the outro, and she dropped onto the bed, stretching out next to Severus. He hauled himself up on his elbow to lean over her. Her heart was pumping, perceptions shifted by weed, skin sheened with sweat from the exertion, and her love was close enough to touch.

He drew closer, so slowly, eyes open, and kissed her lightly on the corner of her mouth. Then he tilted his head and kissed her jaw.

She closed her eyes and rolled her head back to give him easier access to her sensitive throat.

But the next contact didn't come, and she opened her eyes to find out why. He was still on the bed next to her, but he had leaned back, just looking at her. Liz watched as Severus visibly trembled. "You have no idea," he whispered, "No idea, how difficult it is to keep my hands off you."

She struggled not to laugh in his face, and she limited herself to a smirk. "That  _ was _ the idea."

"Minx."

"Don't you forget it." She wiggled her hips, just a bit too far from his crotch to make contact. "Oh, Severus, I know we have to wait. I know. But I don't see any sense in pretending I don't want you."

For a moment he looked cold, hard, and distant. But then he pointed his wand to the music box, asked it for an easy listening playlist on low volume, and stowed his wand again. He pulled her close, wrapping himself around her, pinning her in a cozy embrace, and nuzzling her jawline where he had kissed a moment before. He didn't say any more.

He didn't have to.


	20. Say the Things Nobody Dares to Say

#  P1Ch20 Playlist

  * Title track: "Deuces are Wild" by Aerosmith 1994
  * _something instrumental playing very quietly in the background_
  * "Mellowship Slinky in B Major" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers 1991
  * "Patience" by Guns n Roses 1987
  * "Name" by the Goo Goo Dolls 1995  




Chapter 20 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5YzfPfLDORKxGq6PMAPi5p>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 20: Say the Things Nobody Dares to Say

Another morning, and another cold pillow where her Consort had been.

Liz had a couple of errands to run before going to Healer's Care Haven. First, Gringotts. She knew she had some old notes from her studies abroad, and she was grasping at straws for new clues about Sila's plans and tomorrow's predicted date. None of these parchments had the protections of Sila's diary, so they were locked up tight in a well-warded box inside Liz's personal vault.

Once she had her notes in hand, her next stop was Herr Schwarz's office. To his credit, he did not flinch as she explained the way she had bound herself to the Dark Lord's Sun cult. Maybe he was getting a bit jaded to her sudden and significant burdens. He listened carefully, and then said, "When Marlena said you identified as Air, I was surprised. I thought for sure you were the Sun."

Her shock must have registered on her face. She really needed to be more careful about the emotions she allowed others to see.

Werner explained, "Sun and Fire are the rulers of men."

She scoffed. "I have no wish to rule."

He smiled softly. "You already do, in two very important ways. Every Priestess rules her own coven, and you are now a High Priestess, as well. Consider the idea that this role of service to a cult means  _ advising _ the Priest, and advocating for your element."

Liz frowned deeply, despite the hope that bloomed in her heart. Could she really have that kind of influence with the Dark Lord?

"As you discover Mysteries of Air, think of how they might work in tandem with the Sun, and the other elements, too. I would be surprised if you hadn't yet found some special magic with the core elements between yourself and your Lead Champion."

A small smile tugged at Liz's lips, and Werner's grew wider.

"See? You'll make the best of all this, yet, my Priestess. Now, I am sure you are late to work. Off with you, Liebkind."

The moment she walked through the door of Healer's Care Haven, Ash demanded, "Where have you been?"

"Good morning to you, too."

He glared, and Liz winced at how it looked just like Sila's glare.

"If you must know, I had an errand to run at Gringotts, to fetch some personal notes, and it took rather longer than I expected. I'll be in my office, studying them." Without waiting for any response, she started walking away as she added, "Do let me know when the expected patients arrive."

As she waited, and studied, she spared a thought or two at whether she was really any use to them at all. She was far too irritated at her own inadequacies. Simply decoding her own notes took longer than it should have, and she was going to need to keep them at the Haven more than just the day, so she had to construct a new warded lockbox for them. When she had gotten out of bed this morning, she had expected to scour all eleven sets of parchments, but today she was only going to make it through one before she got too frustrated with her own sloppy documentation and the need to revise these notes.

When the clock chimed noon, she came down to find out what was going on. Jason and Ash were standing at the desk, and they both turned grave looks at her. "They have been and gone," said Jason.

"And no one came to tell me?"

"No, Kiddo," Ash insisted. "You don't have to be involved anymore. The aurors took Healer Kayson's statement. Auror Tonks said she got what she needed from you last night."

She was drawing a deep breath, preparing to shout at both of them, when Jason spoke first, "It's all right, Liz. You don't have to fix everything. You  _ can't _ fix everything. Tonks said she was concerned about adding to  _ your _ traumas. The aurors will take care of Shelby and Johnny. If you want to support them as a friend, try going through Rosmerta. Otherwise, let it go."

Stony faced but thinking hard, Liz realized they were probably right. She had enough on her plate. She wasn't sure when she would even have time again to do something like make another new friend. "Fine," she said, rubbing absently at the scar on her skull, "I do have a full load of other things to get done." Then she turned on her heel and went back upstairs. She skipped lunch, which always made her a little hangry, and the continued mess of her own notes were grating on her nerves. By the end of business hours, she was ready to throw things, and she conjured glass balls to smash against the wall.

As she did, she reminded herself that she was only 12 years old when she started keeping these accounts of her world travels. She reminded herself that she didn't understand Sila's goals, then or now. She reminded herself that she was allowed to be a naive child, then...  _ and _ now.

She was considerably calmer as she vanished her mess and picked up her notes from the winter of 1990 to 1991.

Liz also had to forgive herself for taking no personal notes about Aicha, but for one mention that the woman had given Liz her first thorough lesson of anatomy. Aicha had been Sila's friend, and Liz was hoping that she had taken a note or two that would be illuminating in retrospect. But she hadn't.

A knock on the door pulled Liz away from her notes, alarmed at the clock showing 7pm already. She was pleased, now, that she had taken great pains to make the new lockbox, for it only took five seconds to secure the scrolls of her notes before lifting the wards on her door and approaching to open it herself.

It was Marlena. "Priestess," she said, bowing her head before sweeping inside and placing a parcel on Liz's now-bare desk.

Liz stood awkwardly near the door. "I'm sorry. I know I should be coming home for supper."

"I have brought a meal, but I will not do this every day. If you intend to work late, please call by floo to let us know, and then order something here to eat."

Bowing her own head, Liz said, "Yes, Sister. Thank you. You attend me well."

"Do you expect to work many late nights?"

"Oh yes," she said with feeling. "My to-do lists just keep getting longer, and I have only hours left to prepare for tomorrow's unknowns."

"Do you have a plan?"

Liz shook her head. "Only a desperate search among notes I made four years ago."

"Oh, Liebkind. Eat this food. Give it another hour. Then come home and get a good night's sleep."

She bit her lip and glanced at her lockbox. Would continuing this path even help at all? She did need to rest if she wanted to be anything more than useless for the first stage of the potion tomorrow. "Marlena, I was not expecting him, and it's not urgent, but if my Consort comes to the Residence, will you please send him here?"

"Yes, Priestess."

"Thank you."

An hour later, Liz leaned back and shook her head at her parchments. She felt better after eating, but she hadn't enjoyed it. She felt better after considering Marlena's simple suggestions for self-care, but she was nervous. She needed to fix the creeping anxiety, and she had a bit of an idea for a feel-good way to ease her nerves.

The Blumwands were out enjoying the summer evening in the yard again, and Liz went straight to her room and stripped off all her clothes.

She flicked her wand to her music box to get something instrumental playing very quietly in the background, and then she stretched every muscle group before touching every inch of her own skin, ending with her fingertips in her crotch, eyes closed, biting her lip as she carefully reached up all the way to her cervix.

"Ahhh," she sighed, straightening back out and stretching to a Sun Salute once more. Then she fluffed her pillows and laid down on her back, knees wide apart and ready for more.

A few minutes later, with one hand on her breast and the other gently rubbing her clit, Liz felt the alarm ward trigger on her door. She was getting tuned to the way Severus' particular methods unlatched her locks, and she had no doubt that it was him. She bit her lip again and decided he could just go ahead and find her like this. In fact, this could be quite an intense encounter...

When he opened the door it only took him two seconds to turn around and shut it behind him, clicking the physical lock back shut and throwing a pair of privacy wards over top of her own.

She giggled, and then glared when he approached. "Stop. Wait. Watch." He did, and she dipped one finger of her left hand deep inside her pussy, then rubbed the natural lube on her clit. "Oh, yes, I am already wet and ready... for Mauve."

His eyes darkened and narrowed. "Mauve?"

Since this was the first thing he said, and not something urgent about their many obligations, Liz smiled brightly and decided to go all-in on her idea for the evening. She raised her left to catch, and with her clean hand, Liz flicked her wand and commanded, " _ Accio Mauve _ ."

Mauve was her favorite sex toy, and, still lying on the bed with her legs spread, she leered when she saw the way Severus' dark eyes widened at the sight of it.

Though Liz liked to believe she was  _ not _ a size queen, this playtime dong was large enough to intimidate the first time she had seen it, and she hadn't hesitated to buy it after the way it caught her breath and made her heart race. It was almost as long as her forearm and rather larger in girth than she could wrap her hand around. The hard plastic was coated with a rubbery silicone to have just the right fleshy texture, with realistic ridges that belied the unrealistic expectations it could give a girl about the average male. And of course, the color was mauve.

She licked her lips and then licked her toy slowly from base to tip. "Tonight, this is going inside me, since you cannot."

Severus shook his head slightly, and she was unsure if he was denying the attempt outright or disbelieving that it would fit.

Using her fingertips to stroke the ridge of the dildo's head, she asked, "Could it be that you are a bit jealous of this... inanimate anatomy?"

"Tease," he growled.

She giggled and gave her toy a sweet little kiss on the very tip. "Is it really a tease if I fulfill every promise? You just stay right there and watch, and I promise a suitable reward for this service from my Consort."

He stood straight and still in the middle of the room as she tapped the head against her tits and used her free hand to rub her own clit.

Yes. Having him watch, fully clothed, while she touched herself like this was fucking hot. But then he moved to unclasp his cloak, and she stopped. "No," she said, "Don't undress. Don't touch yourself. Just watch."

His hands slowly lowered back to his sides.

She smiled and returned to her task, now tapping the dildo on her crotch and using her free hand to squeeze each breast and pinch the hard nipples.

When she was good and ready, she smoothly drew her wand again, pointing it at her toy and nonverbally casting her favorite lubrication charm.

"What will you watch while I slip it inside? My cunt or my face?"

His eyes locked with hers for just a second, and then his gaze turned down. Liz smiled. She'd watch that pussy stretch, too, if she were in his shoes.

She swiped at the lube on the toy and spread it around her labia, using her fingers to open wide before pressing the tip against herself. She gasped at the contact of the imitation dickhead that could touch her entire opening and clit all at once, and then she hissed a quiet little, "Oh yesss," as she oh-so-slowly pushed it in.

The stretch was incredible, and it made her pant. Watching his face, she felt the moment that she enveloped the entire head, and she gasped at the same time he flushed.

"Ohhh," she moaned quietly. "Oh, it's so big. It feels so good."

She closed her eyes and moaned louder as she pushed it in a little more, a little faster this time.

Nope, open eyes was better, watching him watch her. The ridge of the head was now perfectly positioned to stroke her g-spot, so she handled her toy for shallow little thrusts that made her toes curl.

"What," she panted, "will you watch -- oh -- while I come?" She swallowed hard to keep the gasping under control. "My cunt or my face?"

She watched with delight as his eyes shifted between them a few times, but she could feel the wave building, and if he was indecisive he was going to run out of time. Just as his eyes went again to her crotch, she shoved hard on the dildo to push it deep, but the last thing she saw was his eyes drawn back to hers, before they rolled back in her skull as she moaned again, loudly, legs closing together as her hips bucked in time to the pulsing of her muscles.

As the dopamine high leveled off, she opened her eyes to see he was undressing again, this time already out of his cloak and reaching for the robes when she said, "You won't want to miss this."

She used one hand to maneuver her legs for his viewing pleasure, and the other hand gently tugged on the toy. She whimpered when it finally cleared her flesh, and she could well imagine what he saw as he gazed at her, the way her gaping pussy slowly relaxed and closed.

But she was watching the fire in his eyes and was rewarded when he turned them back to hers. "Persephone," he said, a bit strangled.

"Yes, Severus, now you may undress." She put away her toy and shimmied on the bed to lay on her side and watch him strip. He removed all his clothes, and also all his glamours except for the ones on his hair and his Dark Mark. His erection looked painfully hard. "Now come here and lie next to me, facing me."

He did, but when he reached for her, she held up a halting hand. "You are doing so well, obeying my pleasant orders. I have just a few more. Touch yourself now."

He hesitated.

She insisted, "I am both exhibitionist and voyeur."

The moment of decision was clear in his eyes. Then he wrapped his hand around his cock and closed them. This made her smile, and she maybe wished he would look and see how this pleased her, but she wouldn't make that an order. She preferred to have his natural reactions, not what he thought she wanted to see.

"Show me, love," She pressed. "Show me just how you like to have a hand on your cock."

His eyes opened just a crack, and his fist began to pump, but he said in that liquid velvet voice, "I would rather have yours."

Oh, that was tempting, but she had a goal in mind and she wanted to see it through, so she bit her lip and grinned at him before dropping her eyes and focusing.

His grip was tighter and rougher than she expected. She wondered if this was because of his own practiced hand or if he would want a treatment more strong than the softness he had already received from her. It was a fun little guessing game to play in her head while she drank in the sight of his elegant fingers stroking his turgid flesh.

Then Severus tipped his shoulder, twisting his torso so he could use both hands, and she saw the questioning look he gave her. "Ah, yes," she said, "Go ahead and lie back." She lowered her voice to a lusty whisper, "Whatever you need to get yourself off."

He relaxed completely to his back, and she watched in wonder as he cupped his own balls in one hand and increased the pace of the other's rhythm.

The angle wasn't great to see it, but she suspected he was using that lower hand to press hard on the base of his shaft or maybe even reaching lower, and the upper hand sped up, along with his breath. His eyes closed again, and she watched all the lines on his face relax, and it didn't take long until he threw his head back and a short "Uhn!" escaped his lips.

She whipped her head to see his cum spray over his stomach, and the sight of it triggered something primal within her. She had to stop herself from reaching out to touch that quivering stomach.

Jealousy bloomed for the hand that got to milk the last drops from that prick, and Liz realized that her pussy no longer ached from the stretch but for the want of  _ more. _

Whoa. Down, girl. Give the man a break, at least.

She took a couple of deep breaths and then turned her eyes back to Severus's face. He had cracked one eye open and then widened both when he caught her looking.

Then she reached, slowly, touching him for the first time tonight by sliding her fingertips across his ribcage, through the largest track of his semen, and then bringing it back to her own face, popping the tip of her cum-coated middle finger into her own mouth, leering around it.

"Thank you," she said, switching for the next fingertip and tasting that salty prize again.

"Priestess," he whispered, shuddering.

She sat up and looked to the foot of the bed, where she had pushed the blankets before he had even arrived. But then she looked at him again and just couldn't help herself. She leaned down slowly, close to his crotch, but she tilted her head, looked at him looking down at her, and blew gently across his stomach.

She could imagine how that chilled and tickled him, with his cum drying on his skin, and he started violently enough that his hips bucked and  _ slapped _ her in the face with his softening cock.

Cackling in glee, she finally reached for the blanket, arranging it over both of them. He was still laying back, his breathing irregular.

She put her own body a bit higher up than usual, her breasts only inches from his chin as she leaned on one elbow and gently traced the long hair around his face. "You serve so well. What is my champion's desire?"

He closed his eyes again, and he found a steady rhythm to breathe by. Then he opened those dark eyes and said, "We need to rest for tomorrow."

"I didn't ask for what you need, Severus. I provide that regardless. That's why you're here for the night, isn't that right?"

She didn't much care for the look he gave her, one of those exasperated glances he gave to dunderhead students, but what he said was, "Yes, we need to rest for tomorrow, and I thought I would get the best rest here. Will I get rest tonight?"

Frowning back at his sour expression, she said testily, "Yes of course. That's what I just said." Then she took a deep breath and continued, "But, even if I don't deliver it tonight, love, you were very good to me, just now, and I asked for your desire."

His face was serious, his brow creased and his frown lines deepening when he said, "More bedroom lessons. Despite the restriction on penetration, you have somehow managed to have sex with me three times. On this topic, my Priestess,  _ you _ are the teacher."

She smiled softly. They were learning together, as all couples do, but if he wanted to give her that authority, she would take it. It would probably ease his conscience for the very real power games they would have to play at Hogwarts. "Yes, my champion. I am your Priestess, and I will provide." She stretched her bent arm until it was flat, laid her own head on it, and then used her other hand to pull Severus to rest his head against her bosom. She snaked one long leg across his stomach, grinning to herself about the sticky residue of their intimate act.

He brought up one hand to rest on that leg and tucked his impressive nose deeper into her cleavage.

"Sleep now," she said, and she modeled a deep, peaceful breath until they both fell asleep.

At dawn, Liz's first conscious action was a deep breath to inhale the cinnamon and clove and sweat where her nose was tucked into Severus' armpit.

Her slight shift had probably tickled something fierce, and he twitched, which closed her airway, and her brain finished firing up for the day as she lifted her head and stretched languidly next to him.

Severus was looking at her with the softest expression she had ever seen through his groggy state. "Good morning," he murmured.

She raised an eyebrow and breathed, "I sure hope so." Then she gave him a quick squeeze and sat up to have a better stretch. She reached for her glasses to get a better look at the world, and, glancing out the window, she frowned and asked, "Are we off by a day?"

His pleasant expression quickly turned to that sour look he usually reserved for dunderheads in class, and she fought an urge to fidget.

She explained, "You brew the Wolfsbane every month, right? It just occurred to me, looking at the moon setting out there, that consumption of the final dose is recommended in the preceding twenty-four hours of the brief instant the moon is actually full, so if you delivered it on the twenty-ninth, it might have escaped you that the exact moment of the full moon was in fact a few minutes  _ before _ midnight."

Severus scowled. "Sometimes the fantastic becomes the mundane. No, I did not actually verify the moment, just the date listed on the reference calendar, and it did not even occur to me to actually  _ look _ at the moon as you just did."

Liz nodded as she considered the multiple problems this presented them. Yep, two immediate concerns. The concrete do-something-about-it-asap problem should come first. "I know you aren't exactly fond of Remus Lupin, but is there anything about that timing with the Wolfsbane that might be cause for real concern?"

Sitting very, very still, Severus said evenly, "Doubtful, but you could ask him."

"All right, I will. Now, our problem with the Gift."

He visibly relaxed, back on a safe topic, even as frustrating as it was. "Refining the equations to hours instead of days would be the next step, but that will take too long if we needed to start this morning."

"Severus, I know it would be better to have the potion in hand sooner than later, but maybe you should go ahead and do that, and I can get a chance to do a full rehearsal of the song. I am better prepared than I was the other day, but I still don't feel ready. I still feel too tired." She sniffed. "And I'm still really scared of mucking it up, and I'd much rather wait a month than risk  _ another _ disaster."

He was still lying down, half covered by the blanket, but she could see the way his chest rose and fell with each breath as he listened to her speak. Again fighting the urge to fidget, she waited for him through a long pause. "The blood moon in Ares was already predicted for a better outcome. We can wait. In fact, we could both use more rest."

Liz felt it in her soul, the lifting weight of one less crushing responsibility. She closed her eyes to relish the sensation for just a second, and then she gestured for her wand so she could start up the music box. This morning called for her  _ Mellow Theme _ playlist on low volume. Then she snuggled back down, once again inhaling the spicy scent of him as she threw one arm across his chest.

She had nearly dozed off again, when she felt him draw a deep breath and softly rumbled, "This is nice."

Smiling with her eyes still closed, she agreed, "Very." Then she lifted her head to look at him. "Does my Consort desire another lesson in pleasure?"

His slight frown was discouraging, but she waited again while he considered his response, and she was rewarded for this patience when he finally replied, "In pleasuring my Priestess."

Liz grinned and propped herself on her elbow. "That's very good, love, to think of me instead of yourself, and right now, I appreciate it more than you can know." Then she used her free hand to hold his. "I want you to touch me everywhere. Show me what you know about using these hands."

Severus gently pulled his hand out of hers and brought it to her face, cupping her jaw and then running the pads of his fingers over her lips.

She puckered her lips to kiss lightly as they passed. As he continued exploring her face, ears, scalp, and everything above the collarbone, she was delighted by the serious expression on his face.

He was rolling her hair between his thumb and forefinger when he asked, "May I cancel the glamour?"

She nodded, and he did. 

The short little curls  _ sproinged _ back as he ran his hands through them, and his lips quirked up in his own delight.

"Severus," she crooned as she timed herself to the track playing a background to their relaxed touching,  _ "Can I get another kiss from you? Kiss me right here on my tattoo!" _ She winked and tilted her head toward her snakes armband.

He slid his hand down to brush his thumb over the serpents before leaning in to press his lips there. When he pulled back he asked, "What is this song?"

_ "Mellowship Slinky in B Major _ , by the Red Hot Chili Peppers, a deep cut of the album  _ Blood Sugar Sex Magik." _ Hmm, that was a mouthful, and there were so many other things she'd rather do with her mouth right now. Ah right, but he wanted to learn. She was his Priestess, and she would provide. As Severus continued wandering his hands over her arms, she explained, "They might be one of the most popular bands in the world right now, er, the muggle world, anyway, and plenty of music lovers would have listened to the whole album front-to-back by now. Every track is gold, and it makes a decent backing track for an hour-long shagging session."

Frowning, but unfocused and certainly not  _ at _ her, he suggested, "You should just stop at  _ most popular _ and leave out the muggle qualifier. Ignorant purebloods won't dare note the difference from someone of your high status, and the more enlightened and cultured purebloods will welcome the fresh entertainment, as long as they don't have to acknowledge the origins."

Liz scoffed. "Intellectual property and crediting artists is important, but, yes, I can in fact use their names without even implying that there's a discernible difference between magical and muggle music. If there even is, it's all in the delivery, the performance, not in the feelings or intent of the song."

A glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips, Severus said, "Good girl."

"That said, I do love performing with all the might and mystery of magic behind it."

"All right, my exhibitionist Air Priestess, you know you want to play your guitar for me."

She smirked. "My brilliant Severus, you already know just how to turn me on, even hands-free."

Liz was pretty quick about pausing playback on the music box, retrieving her guitar, tuning it swiftly, and then shifting her usual music theory model into D-mix. That's what made this song so effortless, and Liz could focus on the feeling that she called with her Siren's Song.

She could even whistle on pitch.

_ "Patience" by Guns n Roses _

_ Shed a tear 'cause I'm missin' you  
_ _ I'm still alright to smile  
_ _ Oh, I think about you every day now  
_ _ Was a time when I wasn't sure  
_ _ But you set my mind at ease  
_ _ There is no doubt you're in my heart now _

_ Said "woman take it slow, and it'll work itself out fine"  
_ _ All we need is just a little patience *  
_ _ Said "sugar make it slow and we'll come together fine"  
_ _ All we need is just a little patience, patience _

_ Mmmm-mmm-m-mmm, yeah _

_ I sit here on the stairs  
_ _ 'Cause I'd rather be alone  
_ _ If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear  
_ _ Sometimes I get so tense but I can't speed up the time  
_ _ But you know, love, there's one more thing to consider _

_ Said "woman take it slow and things will be just fine"  
_ _ You and I'll just use a little patience *  
_ _ Said "sugar take the time 'cause the lights are shining bright"  
_ _ You and I've got what it takes to make it  
_ _ We won't fake it, I'll never break it  
_ _ 'Cause I can't take it _

_ Little patience, mm yeah, mm yeah  
_ _ Need a little patience, yeah  
_ _ Just a little patience, yeah _

_ I've been walking the streets at night  
_ _ Just trying to get it right  
_ _ It's hard to see with so many around  
_ _ You know I don't like being stuck in the crowd  _

_ And the streets don't change but maybe the names  
_ _ I ain't got time for the game 'cause I need you  
_ _ Yeah, yeah, yeah but I need you   
_ _ Oh, I need you  
_ _ Oh, I need you!  
_ _ Ooh this time _

Severus was entranced. Maybe literally. Fuck it, if ever there was a song to ensare a lover, this could sure be the one. When she exhaled the final audible, "Ah," she quickly added, "The improvising at the end is my favorite part of playing this song. I mean, the lyrical content is on point, but this song is all about  _ playing _ that guitar. I even let the vocal timing fall behind it in a few places, and the listener has to be as patient as the lover who  _ should _ be listening."

"This is exactly why I believed you are a Priestess," he said, tipping his head. "You perceive things that others do not. It is the common thread in all Priestesses, alchemical and celestial. Mysteries that only you know. That only you can share and enhance and protect."

"And," she said solemnly, "Despite your core of Fire, you serve so well, protecting the Air."

"The Air that feeds the Fire. It's entirely selfish, I assure you. And now that I wish to repay you in kind, you are distracted by song when it could be by touch."

She smirked as she gently rested her guitar against the wall, flicked her wand to resume playback on the music box, and then returned to sit on the side of the bed where he lounged against her pillows. She said, "It was your idea, and besides that, I have everything I need and wish for this moment. What is my champion's desire?"

She was already aroused, feeling everything in her body, as well as her heart and soul, and she had to bite her lip to keep from whimpering, or moaning, when he said, "I wish to make you come, with these hands, as you already requested."

"Well that's not quite -- Oh!"

One of his hands wrapped around her waist and gripped her hip in a possessive way, while the other hand slipped up to grope her breasts, slowly, first lefty, then righty, with hardly a flick of the nipple to tease and whip up her lust.

She arched her back and pushed her tits out for his access. The hand around her waist slipped under her bum, and she was rolled over to lay on her back in one swift motion that made her squeak "Eep!" as she smacked the mattress a little harder than she might like. No matter, they could work on acrobatics later, and she snuggled into her new spot. Then she moaned as he leaned over her, and she bit her lip again as she took in the serious, and seriously hot, fire in his eyes.

His hand at her breasts migrated south, and she eagerly spread her legs for him. She sighed, "I am a bit disappointed that we don't have all day."

"There is time for this," he rumbled, his eyes following his own hand over her hips and thighs, searching for her most ticklish spots, teasing with the lightest of caresses, and then soothing with firm squeezes. He was patient. He was thorough. He was engrossed in the vision of his own hands on her person, as well as her responses.

She didn't watch what he was doing with his hands. She could feel that well enough. She didn't quite know what to do with her own, so she put one to work on her own nipples and the other tapping on the bed next to her, in time to the mellow groove of the music. But even as she did these things, she watched his face, especially the subtle changes around his mouth and eyes as he learned what she liked. When he would glance back at her face to watch her responses there, she would quirk her own lips, smiling brighter the more she liked the current touch, and sometimes biting her lip to stifle her moans.

He clearly didn't need lessons. He needed to touch her pussy!

Liz whimpered as he bent his fingers and flipped his hand to brush her neatly-trimmed bush with his knuckles, and then slipped down to plant his thumb on her clit. "Oh, yes!"

He leaned down and murmured in her ear, "I want to taste you," before pulling back to look for her reply.

Although this statement made her moan, she shook her head. "Another time," she gasped, closing her eyes. "Hands now."

Severus slowly dragged his thumb from left to right, and then back the other way, while his tightly-held fist simply rested against her labia. He said slowly, "Any form of penetration might be a ritual component. Though I desire to use my fingers and tongue that way, we will have to do without."

Her eyes flew open and then narrowed. Emphasizing every other word or so along with her panting, she demanded, " _ Gods _ \-- Severus --  _ shut up _ \-- and --  _ rub _ \-- my -- _ clit _ ." He continued in silence, but he raised an eyebrow with some amusement. "I'm so close," she breathed out with her next deep breath. Then she raised both arms to hold the headboard rail behind her and added with a wink, "Penetration is desired but not required."

The way her back arched now showcased her breasts, and his free hand came up to play there as his thumb continued to seek the right pressure and pace.

"Listen to the song," she said, digging the simple beat and melodic guitar. "Just a little slower up here," she said, nodding to her own chest, "and a little faster down there." Then she closed her eyes while he did as told, and she moaned, "Yes, oh that's it, pussy on the metronome, tits every other beat." She was panting again, but managed to add, "Just like that."

Soon she was writhing as her body built up the pleasure in waves, happy for her hand-hold on the bars of the headboard, and with her eyes closed she could well imagine the scene if she had allowed him to use his mouth. She imagined him slipping one of those long fingers inside her and sucking hard on her clit, just as the song rose in action for the final few bars.

As the pulsing waves of her orgasm took her, her toes curled and body shuddered, and she crooned,  _ "It's lonely where you are, come back down, and I won't tell 'em your name." _

Then she dropped her back flat on the mattress, panting as she watched Severus take a little swipe through her slit and bring her essence to his mouth. He popped the tip of his forefinger inside, murmured, "We have brewed quite a potion, here," and turned his hand to clean up her wetness from the backs of the fingers that had been pressed against her.

She moaned and suggested, "Another dose another time." Then she grinned. "This was exactly what I needed this morning. Thank you."

He got up to start dressing for the day, which was a bit disappointing, but probably necessary so that they didn't just shrug off  _ every _ responsibility. Delaying the Healer's Gift was bad enough, although considering the need for their close relationship to complete it successfully, maybe in some way they  _ had _ been working on it this morning. As she gathered her wits, he pulled on his clothes, and he said, "Your musical timing is something I have never seen before. Thank you for teaching me."

Liz managed to haul herself up and offer a shallow curtsy before stepping to the closet to find her own outfit for the day. It would have to be plain and practical for the transfer this afternoon.   


He was ready much faster than she was, and he sat again on the bed to watch her finish primping at the vanity. He said, "Yesterday I was at Fatin's Looks when Avery talked to Trace about going with you during the transfer. I heard he's also moving into Healer's Care Haven, in the room next to Sila."

Smiling pleasantly at him in the reflection of the mirror, Liz nodded. "We needed someone to be there at night, and I remembered the way Trace talked about mum, and it seemed like a good idea."

"Trace is odd, even for a wizard, but he's dependable," Severus said as Liz turned around. "He was the most awkward teenager, and I suppose I should not be surprised that he became enamored with Sila. She drew him out of his shell, after she saw his potential far better than any of us at Hogwarts ever did."

Liz shrugged. "People come into their own at different times, and we live long enough that I expect to have many changes of expertise, peaks and valleys in my confidence, and different people to share it all with. Of course, right now I'm just trying to survive one day at a time."

Severus slipped to his knees on the floor in front of where Liz still sat at the vanity stool. "I am more confident when I consider each action the context of my service to you." He dropped his head in her lap and said, "If you need me today, I will be at Fatin's Looks, since Trace will not."

"Thank you, my champion," she replied, stroking his hair. "I'm sure we've missed breakfast by now, so I should head straight to the Haven."

They stood, and he kissed her sweetly. Then they stepped down through the empty house, finding all the Blumwands already out for the day. In front of the fireplace, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her more thoroughly, and she whimpered at the hint of herself warring with yesterday's coffee on his tongue. He smirked when he pulled away. "I will try to come back again tonight."

She smiled, and then he left by the front door. She was still at the fireplace, watching and feeling as the wards went back up. Then she shook herself and grabbed a pinch of floo powder. It was getting low. She hoped Thomas was spending from the household fund by now to replenish such supplies, especially these that got more use because of Liz.

Ash was at the front desk at the Haven, and though she expected him to be annoyed that she was late again, he looked more relieved than anything.

So she simply nodded her greeting and made to move toward the staircase. Jason was coming down, and he snarled, "Is this showing-up-late thing a habit? Do you always swoop in at the last second to save the day? Or can you manage to be conventional about the one thing we have posted on our front door?"

She blinked in surprise. The only thing posted on the door was their office hours. Then her brain caught up to the facts, instead of being stuck on his attitude. "Oh, come off it, Jason. You know I won't even  _ be _ here most days once school starts. What crawled up your arse this morning?"

Both of them turned to glare when Ash snickered, but he was making himself busy with some paperwork at the desk and refused to meet their eyes.

She turned back to Jason. "Do we need to go to your office, or mine, to have a proper shouting match?"

He scoffed. "No. It's just that, we've already had three patients. Pretty standard stuff, I guess. Awkward skin hex, mild poisoning and bruises from a blown-up cauldron, and more long-term poisoning from the snake oil a certain merchant is claiming as a dementor deterrent. That last one makes me a little concerned that Hogsmeade had no clinic before we got here." He shook his head. "But it occurs to me that you'd be able to fix any of those in seconds, while I'm stuck with my reference library and half a pharmacy. And Ash has been on my case about security and paperwork procedures. I get why, especially after opening day, but I was already annoyed at handling this work alone when you were supposed to be here at nine."

Liz shifted her eyes toward Ash, wondering if they should be having this conversation in the lobby at all. She decided to go with a results-oriented approach, since Ash was right there and probably needed more work. "Can we get pagers like St. Mungo's?"

This question had been directed at Jason, but Ash raised his head eagerly. "Mentago has them, too. I know you only wanted set hours, Kiddo, but even if we could count on you to stick to them, it would be useful for all three of us to have a way to get in contact any time. I'll see what I can do."

She gave Jason a questioning look.

"All right, that would be good. You should still make a better effort to be here at posted hours."

"Fine," she said, gesturing for him to precede her up the stairs. "Now tell me about that snake oil. I've noticed at the edges of town the dementor fog is thicker than it is in London. People will naturally be wary and looking for protection."

They managed to have a civil conversation in her office, and then the Haven was quiet for the rest of the morning.

\------------------------------

At lunch, Jason was back at Liz's office door. She quickly shoved her notes and books to a neat stack on her desk, and he placed a pair of takeout containers in front of her.

He grinned and asked, "Fried rice or ramen?"

She eyed them suspiciously, then conjured an extra plate and an extra bowl.

"Split them both? Good call."

Liz stood to have a stretch while he portioned out the meal, and then she picked up the fried rice when she sat back down. Carefully picking at it with her chopsticks, she identified the egg, vegetables, and... "Pork?"

Jason nodded between sips of the ramen broth. "The same pork they put in the ramen gets chopped and fried with the rice."

Finally, she took a bite, and the flavor explosion was amazing. "Mmm," she murmured, then swallowed. "Salty, savory ... umami for days."

"Try the ramen."

The noodles and vegetables were fresh, and cut perfectly. The broth was soy-based but not too salty. After picking up a few bites with her chopsticks, she carefully placed the utensils back on her rice plate, and she picked up the bowl and sipped with her eyes closed. Delicious, filling, and warm, this was the kind of food that could make a girl content with whatever life threw at her. If she shut her eyes just right, she could imagine sitting at the table with the girls at Miku's...

"So," Jason ventured, picking up his rice and gesturing with the chopsticks. "I have a chart to show you."

Liz shook her head. "I will finish my ramen, first. Not that I expect to spill a single drop of this culinary masterpiece, but it's safer this way."

Jason was devouring his, and Liz slowed down on purpose, smirking as he looked at his empty dishes with regret.

She took pity by taking one last bite of the rice and pushing it toward him.

"You sure?"

Nodding, she said, "Let's make this a weekly event, shall we? There are three more Thursdays before I go back to school, and I  _ love _ Japanese food."

She hardly finished saying this, and the rest of the rice was consumed. As Liz daintily finished her ramen, Jason said, "It will be so strange here without you. Owl me as soon as you get your timetable, all right?"

"Of course," she said quietly, casting to clear the desk.

Then Jason pulled a scroll from his pocket and unrolled it carefully, pinning it to the desk with a sticking charm.

Liz came around so they could stand next to each other to examine it. 

It was good. Thorough, almost a complete org chart for his branch and then some, with various notes and highlights.

"Healer Wells was your supervisor, right?"

Jason nodded, with a grim look on his face. "Yes, but he manages a private ward as well as the emergency crew. It's locked up pretty tight, and I don't think he is leaking anything. His secretary, however..."

"Missus Hewitt. She always had a nasty glare for me, despite having just met me. So she's definitely one of the press leaks?"

"No doubt about it. Too many emergency cases were leaking, but the details were just wrong enough to  _ not _ be one of the healers. She was probably so sour on you because of how much pressure we had to keep your experience as our patient under wraps."

Liz pondered this for another moment and then moved laterally in the chart. "So, the Spell Damage ward is quite a hodge podge."

"That's why I think it was a surveillance device instead of a rat, at least down my corridor of the ward. We were already using them in the isolation rooms. Good odds there are more planted in the common rooms."

Sighing, she spared a thought of hope that Fred and George Weasley were making something good happen with their own experiments on her inventions.

"This is interesting, though, right at the top. Potions Master Maitland and Healer Roarke are on the St. Mungo's Board of Governors. Thick as thieves together, and each with their own contracts to supply the very hospital they serve. Anything bottled with Maitland's maker's mark is a high-quality product, and we are lucky to have that contract, actually." Jason frowned. "But Roarke's devices, like the bandanges, are just this side of shoddy."

Liz shuddered, thinking back to the first woven bandages she ever made, and the way they failed on the simulated wounds used for testing them. At the age of 12, she had been disturbed by the bleeding out of the magical mannequins, and she quickly mastered the technique so it would be a non-issue when they were needed for the lion-mauling she healed just days later. She also recalled, on her clinic rounds with Jason, strengthening the one bandage she had needed for a patient. She hadn't thought much of it at the time, but maybe if their private practice flopped, she could be even more useful making better bandages for St. Mungo's.

Jason shrugged. "So, something is going on there, even above all the leaks and spies. I don't know if you noticed, in our rush to get running here, but my mother is the one making  _ our _ bandages."

"Oh, well, that's good." She raised one eyebrow. "At least, I assume you trust her work, and that this is not a case of nepotism."

"You can use them without a second thought."

Liz nodded and turned her attention back to the chart. "The rest of this doesn't mean much to me. I just wasn't there long enough."

"And there isn't much that I can say that isn't already noted. I wish I knew what to do with this, but it seems like the Ministry just isn't operating quite right. Most of the rest of the Board is too politically motivated." He pointed to the offending governors. "These three hold appointed offices in the Ministry, and Master Bonham only gets called for tie-breaking votes. The only one that seems to act in the best interests of patients, always, is Healer Weber. He's retired, after 60 years working as a healer, and he hardly makes any public appearances except for the Board meetings."

"He might actually be the one to approach, then. Unless you want me to take this straight to the most powerful wizard capable of pulling strings for your benefit."

"Like the Minister for Magic?"

Liz scoffed. "Try again. That was just shaken up, too, wasn't it? Fudge is out. Scrimgeour is in. I've scanned enough of Thomas's  _ Prophet _ deliveries to read between the lines. Word on the wings is that Scrimgeour is Dumbledore's man."

"Ah, so you mean Dumbledore himself."

"Or," she hesitated, "The other one." She saw the way his eyes widened, and she pictured some steel in her spine. "It's time to choose, Jason. No doubt this chart holds details about spies both light and dark. I can't help but notice that you put us both on the chart but didn't make any notes about us." She allowed her eyes to drop for just a second as she added, "About me."

"You're not a spy, Liz."

She smiled. "May as well be." Then she frowned. "The thing is, Jason, if you want it to go straight to Dumbledore, then you should take it there while I go get mum this afternoon. This is a lot bigger than me, and involves more players than I can handle. And, truthfully, I want to show it to Ash before he accompanies me to fetch mum, but if you don't want any of this to be seen by Dark Lord, we should definitely  _ not _ show it to Ash."

Jason frowned, now, too. "You-Know-Who can read minds, right? That was the rumor last time around. But if  _ you're _ a spy that plays both sides, then couldn't he just read yours?"

"Very good, Jason. And also very bad." Liz shook her head slowly. "I am not just a spy, Jason, I am  _ the _ spy, because even the greatest legilimancers in the world take care not to prod at the protections up here." She tapped her temple. Then she scoffed, more to herself than at him. "If you go to Dumbledore, you should be prepared to be legilimized. In fact," she hesitated again, and then spoke for both Jason's and Dumbledore's benefit, "You might also consider that I have put you in grave danger by talking about this. Professor Dumbledore is an expert in mind magicks. No doubt he could cast a surgical  _ obliviate _ to protect you, if you asked him to."

Staring at the chart he had made, a frown still tugging at his lips, Jason sighed. "I'll have to think about it. I don't like the idea of losing memories."

"Don't think too hard," she warned. "The more neural connections to the memories, the harder it is to excise them cleanly. I've seen a botched  _ obliviate _ , and you have, too. I'm too scared of damaging you to cast one myself, or I'd do it right now. With your permission, of course. But the odds are good that my work would send you to St. Mungo's as a resident instead of a healer."

Still looking at the desk instead of her, Jason took a moment to think it over, despite her warning, and then said, "After you leave with Ash, I'll lock up here and go straight to Hogwarts, and I'll do whatever he thinks is best."

"I'm sorry to put you in this position."

"Don't be," he insisted. "I made the chart, didn't I? Someone at St. Mungo's was messing with us, playing on my feelings, tailing you, getting you sacked and confusing the hell out of me. You didn't put me in this position, Liz. You are the only one helping me understand it." He stepped closer to her, and she wondered if he would have tried to hug her if she hadn't tensed in response. "You're amazing, Liz. That new lover of yours, he must be something special, too."

Liz nodded, unable to help the small smile that pulled her features upward.

He must have known what that smile meant, because he said, "Damn, I never stood a chance, did I?"

"Definitely not since you told me private practice was your dream." She swallowed hard and lifted her hands to glare at them while keeping Jason's stricken face in her periphery. "If I didn't feel duty-bound to make the most of these hands, I wouldn't be a healer at all, and I don't want to commit to a lifetime of healing if I can help it."

She raised her hands higher, inviting him to the embrace he had wanted a moment earlier, but this time he was the one too tense to allow it.

Hands still up high, she said, "You deserve someone who would support this dream, who would be able to work with you all day and then talk about it at night, too. I just can't, Jason. My dream is performance art, so I just can't make healing my life. It would break me. It may yet."

"I would put you back together."

Liz shook her head. "You should go now. Give me a minute before I have to have my wits about me for mum. You're a good man, Jason Kayson, and a good healer, too. I think we are doing all right in business for now. Please don't ask for more."


	21. Think You're So Clever But Now You Must Sever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: CONTENT WARNINGS on this chapter include graphic death, suicidal ideation, and alcohol abuse.
> 
> \----------
> 
> A/N: Previously on THE LIZ FIC:   
> ***  
> Liz had had enough. Her mother was very ill. She needed to be at St. Mungo's long before she actually landed there. Liz closed the diary, and she briefly contemplated burning it. It hurt, badly, to know her mother had been so ill for so long. And then, for the first time in a very long time, Persephone wept for Demeter.  
> ***  
> Slowly blinking at Liz, Sila whispered, "The bubbling cauldron." Then, at normal volume, "The popping of the cork." Eyes wide but unseeing, "The wrong victim screams."  
> ***  
> "You don't always get to choose your suffering, only how you react to it. Identify the elements, and swallow the pain to do what must be done."  
> ***  
> Liz could tell that Julia was uncomfortable with the way that Sila looked through them without really seeing them. It was awkward, when Julia asked Sila to braid her hair, and Sila simply stared past her.  
> ***  
> She leaned forward, drawing her bust above the water line. "And trust me, love, there is something very difficult coming yet." The look on his face was still hard, but the tone of his voice was resigned. "There always is."  
> ***  
> "I still don't feel ready. I still feel too tired." She sniffed. "And I'm still really scared of mucking it up, and I'd much rather wait a month than risk another disaster."  
> ***  
> "Healer Wells was your supervisor, right?" Jason nodded, with a grim look on his face. "Yes, but he manages a private ward as well as the emergency crew. It's locked up pretty tight, and I don't think he is leaking anything. His secretary, however..."

#  P1Ch21 Playlist

  * Title track: "Breaking the Girl" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers 1991
  * "All Apologies" by Nirvana 1993  




Chapter 21 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6Wkz9DuSqrSfRtntzk8YEX>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 21: Think You're So Clever But Now You Must Sever

Liz was a little shaken by the array of emotions after Jason left her office. She liked him well enough, but they just weren't compatible. And she was far too enamoured with Severus to think of anyone else, now. In another life, on another continent, after another decade, maybe just maybe she would have been able to work something out with Jason. But she really just wanted to get through the day and go home to Severus.

And right now, she really just needed to think about her mother, to focus, for the mission ahead.

When she made it down to the front desk, Trace was leaning on it, talking to Ash. He was saying, "The room is perfect, actually. Just a place to cat nap between my shift at Fatin's and my shift here. I'll basically live out of my napsack for a while, until I figure out exactly what I want."

"Oh good!" Liz said brightly, interrupting. "That sounds like this might actually work."

Trace straightened just long enough to bend in a shallow bow, and then lean back on the desk. "Mistress Althea, thank you for the chance to be with Mistress Siladora."

She smiled at his continued use of the titles he had chosen for them. As proper, Liz's was her actual title in the pureblood aristocracy, and Sila's was an expression of honor for a woman no longer capable of being the family matriarch. These forms of address were experty chosen and respectfully uttered, and she wished she had a moment to express her gratitude for them, but she really had to stay on task. "Are you both ready to go? I don't think we want to be late."

"Hold on, Kiddo, we should go over the plan."

"The plan?"

Trace shook his head and said sternly, "Yes, Mistress Althea, the plan. Mistress Siladora is in a high-security isolation room, and while we believe this is overkill, we want to darn the socks."

Liz shrugged and then gestured with an open hand as if to ask for the plan.

"First," started Ash, "I made sure Healer Wells is expecting us, and it should be in his office where you will have your wand scanned to confirm your identity as Sila's guardian, and then both you and I sign the transfer papers."

"Then," said Trace, "We go to Sila's room. You will have about 5 minutes to convince her to walk out with us. If that cannot be done, I will put her in a body bind and levitate her out of there."

Liz blinked in surprise and opened her mouth to protest, but Ash spoke fast, "This is standard procedure for transfers of patients who cannot fully cooperate. I confirmed with Healer Kayson and with the orderlies at Mentago."

Frowning, Liz snapped her jaw shut and nodded exactly once. That was true enough at any facility.

Ash continued, "Next we go to the main exit, the same way we are going in. I lead, then you, then Sila, then Trace. Any last-minute pushback will most likely be in Healer Wells' office, but when we step outside is the most vulnerable moment for a, er, less bureaucratic sort of ambush."

Liz's frown deepened. "You expect us to be attacked?"

"No," insisted Trace. "But it doesn't hurt to be prepared, and I do expect the press." He scowled. "When you sold the ownership stake in Fatin's Looks to Mistress Blumwand, it made the business news in the  _ Prophet _ , just a little one-liner about Mistress Siladora being incapacitated, and her guardian quietly selling the share to an insider. I have taken several floo calls from vulture investors trying to get access to Mistress Blumwand, and one of them suggested that the source of the leak to the  _ Prophet _ was at St. Mungo's."

Rolling her eyes, Liz shrugged and said, "Not surprised. I guess I'm not sure if I've said anything while visiting mum. I was trying to be so careful about what I said in her room, but now I have reason to believe there are surveillance devices in the corridors. Best to mind our mouths today, too."

"Right," agreed Ash. "Then, once we are all outside the apparition wards, we come back to Hogsmeade. I'll bring you side-along, and Trace will bring Sila. We come back here to the Haven, and we get her settled." He gave Trace a nervous glance but then turned a steady gaze toward Liz. "If we have to split up, just stick with me, Kiddo. I've got one bolt-hole, and Trace has another, and we'll regroup later if we have to."

Liz nodded thoughtfully. "This is all fine except for one thing. If I do convince her to walk out with us, but she'll only go with me, and we have to split up..."

"Ah, you were right, Master Avery." Trace grinned at him, and then at Liz. "If it comes to this, Master Avery and I will stay behind to cover your escape with Mistress Siladora."

She shook her head. "You really don't have to do that. And even if we tried, I would need the floo, a portkey, or a really good broom."

"You cannot side-along?"

"I can barely apparate myself, even under ideal conditions." She wrung her hands, eyes down, a little embarrassed by this admission. "But I do have a bolt-hole of my own. Been there once this summer already, so I know it's still nice and secluded. Just let me go get a whole bottle of dittany from the pharmacy in case I splinch one or both of us trying to get there."

Dittany stowed in her bag, they were finally ready.

It seemed so simple, and so smooth, as Healer Wells greeting them with a curt sort of professionalism that gave them all no doubt about Wells' opinion that he had better things to do. The wand scan was performed without a hiccup, and the paperwork all seemed to be in order. Once it was signed, he handed Sila's wand to Liz. Then Healer Wells asked them to kindly wait for Mrs. Hewitt, who would escort them to Sila and then back to the main entrance.

They waited.

In silence, for a full fifteen minutes, they waited.

Just as Ash started asking, "Do you think..?" the door opened again and a flustered Mrs. Hewitt glanced around the room, glared at Liz, and said, "Well, let's go then!"

Then the woman turned on her heel and walked off, and the three of them had to scramble to follow her.

Wells' office was on the first floor, which rather explained why Liz had never spoken to the man before today, and it might also have explained the long wait for Mrs. Hewitt, whose desk was in a cube farm where Jason used to have his on the fourth floor.

When they made it to Sila's room, Mrs. Hewitt unlocked the door, said, "Leave the door open," and then marched off without so much as a goodbye.

Liz glanced at Ash. According to Wells, Hewitt was supposed to stay with them while they were still in the building. The men glanced at each other, shrugged, then Ash nodded to Liz, who stepped through first, snatching up the chart from the door.

Sila was laying on the narrow bed, face-up and staring at the ceiling. Liz narrowed her eyes, looking carefully. Something was off. She hardly ever saw her mother horizontal. Sila always had a knack for knowing when someone was coming and preparing with a ready stance, even if she looked relaxed. Even through this madness, Sila was always sitting in wait. But today, she was prone. Her breath was shallow, her skin ghostly pale, and her eyes even more glossy than the last time Liz had been to see her.

"Mum?" she asked.

Sila blinked, but her focus did not clear, and the deep breath she tried to take sounded ragged and painful.

Liz lifted the chart to examine it, and Ash looked over her shoulder as Trace stepped closer to Sila on the bed. She felt a chill as she understood the latest notes.

"This says she refused breakfast today, for the third day in a row, and they had to force-feed her a nutrient potion."

"Merlin," muttered Ash. "What was in it?"

Approaching to stand next to Trace, Liz reached but stopped short of touching Sila where she lay. "It's marked as the standard nutrition for an adult witch, but she is practically comatose." She gulped. "There is something very wrong with her aura. A separation. I've never seen anything like it." She eyed the chart again. "The attending healer is Wells, but she was probably dosed by someone else. And with nothing in these notes to explain this, no one is going to own it."

"So what should we do?" asked Trace.

"Stick to the plan," replied Liz. "It's still a good plan, and once she's at the Haven, I can examine her and get a new diagnosis. Even though I don't think she's walking out of here on her own, I want to talk to her first, before we go casting a body-bind on her."

The men each took a step back, and Liz was grateful for the space. On his way by, Ash held out his hand, and Liz handed him the chart.

Then she slowly lowered herself to perch on the edge of the bed. "Mum, it's me. I know you didn't even really recognize me anymore, and I've been bad, mum. I've left you alone here too long, and I'm sorry. It's time to go to a new home, where we can be together more and figure out what the hell we should do." She sniffed. "We're going to have to cast a spell on you to make sure it's safe to move you, and then Trace is going to help you out. I hope you remember Trace." Liz lowered her voice to hardly a whisper. "I think he loves you, mum, and I think he wants to help you become yourself again."

Sila's eyes hadn't moved, and hardly even blinked. Her breathing pattern didn't exactly change, but her ragged breath became more of a wheeze, and Liz finally reached out to touch. Her intent was to hold Sila's hand, but the moment her skin made contact, Sila screamed, and Liz felt the other woman's wand burning in her pocket.

"What the bloody hell is this?!" Liz shouted, flying backward, tearing off her cloak, and casting  _ aguamenti _ to put out the lick of flame. Ash was at her side in an instant, extracting the ashen remains of Sila's wand and attempting to mend Liz's cloak.

But Liz's eyes were glued to Sila and Trace. He had approached her to hold her while she screamed, but Sila only thrashed within his grip and screamed louder. "No!" she cried, "Ah! No! No! The potion! No! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh! The potion!"

Finally Trace drew his wand and cast. " _ Petrificus totalis _ ."

Sila's body stiffened and fell back to the bed.

Liz spent about two seconds in total panic, unsure what to do, before her training and well-honed skills kicked in. She turned to Ash, who was muttering spells ineffectively at hole in her cloak, and she snapped, "Get a grip, and then go get Hewitt or Wells, whichever you find first. I have questions, and I am not leaving until I have answers."

Ash straightened his spine, passed his gaze over the room, and then asked, "What if I cannot find them?"

"Come back in 5 minutes to report."

He ducked his head and off he went.

Liz turned to Trace, who had taken her spot perched next to Sila. He was shaking his head, frowning deeply. "What kind of potion can do this?"

"That's a question that has to wait until I can get to a trusted Potions Master." Despite having one in mind, she did not dare say so. She stepped very close to Trace, so she could mutter sotto-voice directly into his ear. "Remember, this room is recorded. Don't lose your head, Trace. Don't say too much, and don't ask rhetorical questions. Our plan has already changed, and we've already had to split up in a way we didn't expect."

"But she mentioned a potion," he hissed.

"The bubbling cauldron," Liz muttered, not bothering to control her volume. "The wrong victim screams." She shuddered. "Mum said that among her ramblings once before when I was here to visit her." She leaned in and whispered again. "I know a legilimens who offered to try to read her, to see if we could get better answers. For now..." She raised her voice again. "Budge up, Trace. I want to examine her now instead of later."

He stood and allowed Liz to take the place again. She raised her wand and began casting a battery of diagnostic spells, not really expecting any of them to be revealing.

But all of them came back positive.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried something that might have been a little crazy in any other situation, casting a test for excess testosterone, generally used on athletes as a screen for performance enhancing drugs. Then she cast for its deficiency. Next was a pair of diagnostics for both dehydration and excess water weight. Then for both high and low blood pressure. Pregnancy. Missing organs. Every extreme she could think of, that should not apply to a healthy adult witch in her prime, all came back with such a positive glow from her wand that Liz was sure none of them were accurate.

"Shit," she snarled. "We can't count on my wand. I have to do it the old-fashioned way, and that involves touching her, but it's not as accurate when she's bound like this."

"What else could we do?" asked Trace.

"Try casting these," she instructed, standing to demonstrate the same spells, one at a time.

He did it perfectly, and the result was the same. Trace didn't know how to read the glows, but he wasn't thick. He was paying attention, and Liz could see him grow frustrated with each outlandish positive.

Liz shook her head and shrugged.

Trace shook his head too. "Let's wait for Ash, and you can get your answers, and we can all get the hell out of here."

As soon as he finished stating this new plan, Sila made a sick gurgling sound on the bed.

Liz immediately came to her side, starting the touch diagnostic even though it would not be so effective. She could hardly get the read on Sila's separated aura. Her soul was damaged and she could not figure it out. Every second that their skin touched, the gurgling became worse, and Liz became concerned that Sila was choking.

"Release the bind, Trace."

He glanced between them, hesitating.

Liz stood and stepped back. "Now."

He complied.

Sila screamed, but her voice cracked and gurgled in between each breath. "No! Urghgh. Nooooooooo!" She gasped here, too, thrashing one last time before calming down to a rough twitch as she continued to wail. "Ahhhhh! No, the potion! Urghgh. The potion! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, it wasn't ready! Urghgh. The potion! Noooooooo!"

Ash came back, then, empty-handed, and Liz gave him her full attention. "Neither is at their desk. Front desk paged them and promised to send them up, but I don't think they're coming."

Despite her focus on him, Liz could barely understand him between Sila's outbursts, and Liz had a growing suspicion that  _ the potion _ was the very one Liz and Severus had delayed finishing this morning.  _ The potion, it wasn't ready _ . Liz would never, ever forget the way her mother screamed this phrase in the exact moment she most needed a miracle cure.

Then Trace called out, "Look! Look, she's burning!"

Eyes wide, Liz spared a second to think as smoke poured out Sila's mouth and nose. Again this was new to Liz, but it was starting to look more like a curse than a poison. This should have made it easier, but if none of the three of them could recognize it... Then the stench hit her, the stench of burning flesh, and she saw the way Ash and Trace both covered their faces, making their own guttural gagging sounds.

She approached Sila again, and laid her hands on her mother, and Liz shook her head, at a loss. "My touch makes it worse," she said, pulling away and casting pleading glances at both the men. "I have never seen that before. I don't know what to do." A heavy feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. "She is going to die if those healers don't arrive in the next few seconds." She glanced back at the twitching and gurgling form on the bed, no longer screaming but moaning incoherently. "She will probably die anyway."

Another healer appeared in the doorway, someone Liz recognized from the ward but not from Jason's old team. "Merlin's beard! What is going on here?"

"Please help," said Liz calmly, stepping aside and gesturing to Sila. "I don't know why she's burning, and I don't know what to do."

As the Healer worked, casting diagnostics that made her panic, Liz fought not to cackle madly. "They're wrong," she said quietly, "I cast them, too, and they're wrong."

The other Healer looked back at Liz with wide eyes. "You're that Hand Healer. I thought I recognized you. Always showing off, you were."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Healer Liz Althea. Charmed. You are?"

"Healer Slaine."

Deadpan, Liz intoned, "Healer Slaine, focus, please."

Bristling, the healer got back on task, touching Sila just as Liz had done.

Liz simply sat back, shaking her head as she realized that the diagnostic would not be fast enough, let alone any treatment. As her mother burned alive, she watched Sila's skin bubble with blood blisters until they started popping. Her delicate ears and elegant hands turned black, and the tip of her pointed little nose too, and Liz expected that her feet would be the same, all her extremities burning to a crisp. 

When a great blister formed along Sila's high cheekbone, swelled, and popped, pouring boiling blood over her face, Sila stopped twitching, and Liz had to look away. Ash was still watching, which was good. One of them should. But he was looking rather green about it, his hand still over his mouth. Trace had covered his own face, fingers digging into his flesh in the same places they had just seen Sila's blisters pop. Poor Trace, Liz thought. He was taking this much harder than she was.

Finally, the other healer behind her stopped casting spells and said clearly, "She's dead. There is going to have to be an investigation. Stay put."

Liz turned. "No way," she said sharply. "The attending is Wells, and five minutes ago he couldn't be arsed to come up here. He can clean up this mess. I will be going home now."

"We should take her," said Trace.

Shaking her head, Liz said, "We should forget we saw this, unless we want to try reporting it to a corrupt ministry. The St. Mungo's staff is going to cover it up, just like they covered up my admission for a concussion a few weeks ago."

Healer Slaine harrumphed indignantly. "This is a little more serious than a concussion."

Liz scoffed. "And yet, if this institution was willing to cover up that, imagine what they're going to do about this." She shrugged and smirked. "You may as well burn the body. It's well on its way to self-cremation already."

It was true. Sila's blood was still boiling and flesh turning black, and the odor was becoming oppressive, even for the detached shock Liz was experiencing.

She turned to Ash. "Get me out of here, now." Then Trace. "Come with us."

Trace shook his head, and Liz nodded. "We should get those answers you wanted, and we should take her with us."

"No answers will bring her back." She grimaced as she looked once more at the smouldering pile of flesh and bone on the bed, now burning up the mattress as well, despite the healer's rapid-fire casting to stop it. "But if you want what's left of her, then find a way in the next ten seconds."

He was ready, and he laid one hand on Healer Slaine to get her to stop, before raising his own wand to conjure a large, insulated bucket and draw Sila's remains into it. He lidded the bucket and hooked the handle over his arm.

Then Liz took both men by the hand and led them away.

They went one way, and Healer Slaine went screaming down the corridor the other way, calling for security and Healer Wells.

Liz kept them moving, but she squeezed Ash's hand. "We're not going to make it to the front door."

"Right," he said, using his free hand to dig in his coat pocket. He produced a braced horseshoe of brass that looked suspiciously like the tuning slide from a trombone, and Liz raised her eyebrow. Ash said, "Keep walking, but hold on tight."

She drew Trace's hand in her own, over to the proffered bit of metal. As soon as all three had a grip, Ash tapped it with his wand, and they were gone.

After the unmistakable tug at her middle pulled them through space and time, they landed directly in the lobby of the Haven. A portkey. Illegal, probably, but a good backup getaway. Liz was impressed.

But Ash was sick, heaving on the floor, and Trace was sobbing on his knees as he removed the lid from the bucket.

"Merlin," Liz whined when the stench hit her again, "Did you have to do that right here?" She cast a bubble-head charm on herself and took a few deep, calming breaths. Then she patted Trace on the shoulder and picked up the bucket herself to take it to PLA1.

It was time for an autopsy.

She didn't even look back at the men as she walked away. They could do whatever they had to do. Liz was going to wrap this up and then pack it away in her mind and never think about it again.

An hour later, Jason came in, and Liz was thankful for the distraction.

He, too, cast a bubble-head charm but then asked, "Is that her?"

The underwater quality of his voice through two bubbles was more disturbing to Liz than the ashen remains on her exam table, and her lip trembled, just for a moment, before she swallowed the pain in her heart and replied, "The smell is actually  _ better _ now that she's almost all ash. She's still hot, too, and I don't think it's going to stop until there is literally nothing left of her."

"Damn, Liz, what the hell happened?"

She shook her head. "When there was still enough bone left, I did a calcium check, and the result was consistent with the spike of a standard nutrient potion. Someone still might have slipped another potion in with it, but I think it's a curse. That's just a gut feeling, though, and for once in my life I really do wish I was more methodical and conventional and not such an intuit. I get the impression that Ash and Trace don't know it either. Are they still out there?"

"I found them in Trace's room, getting drunk." He frowned at the door. "Ash stole her chart, but it all looked pretty normal to me, other than her refusal to eat. Trace said she burned from the inside. Ash said he had never seen anything like it, but that maybe he had heard about it decades ago from a story his father told him."

Liz longed for a stiff drink herself, but she had to finish this job, and she wondered if she could even stand to listen to a second-hand story from a grandfather she never had a chance to know.

Jason put one hand on her shoulder and asked gently, "How are you?"

"Trying to get through this before I really have to answer that."

He chuckled. "Can I help?"

"Maybe," Liz said, giving up on the autopsy. "I just want to observe to see if I'm right about the remains breaking down to nothing. It shouldn't be long now. And in the meantime, have  _ you _ seen anything like it?" Her eyes were on the table, but her mind was back in Sila's room at St. Mungo's. "The first sign was a horrible choking sound, then the smoke from her mouth and nose, and then the blisters. I watched some of them. I watched them bubble up and pop and spill hot blood over her once-perfect skin. Maybe like if a Blood Boils Hex applied to the internal organs instead of just the dermis, and was accompanied by a persistent heat that builds pressure until --"

"That's horrible, and no, I haven't seen anything like it, and you can stop now, Liz. You don't have to think about it right now."

"Sure I do," she said evenly. "If I don't do it now I'm not going to do it at all. She died right in front of me. A horrible, painful, disgusting death. And her mind was so warped and her soul so rent, she may as well have been alone in her suffering."

"Liz, let me tell you about my afternoon."

She turned her head to look at him, to find that he was observing her and not the table. This irritated Liz, and she turned her own eyes back to the task she had assigned herself, the pile about half the size it was when Jason walked in, disintegrating before their eyes. She swallowed hard and said, "All right."

"I went up to Hogwarts, and it was like stepping back in time. I haven't been in the castle since I graduated. Madam Pomfrey showed me around, and it's all just like it was. Kind of eerie, actually. Anyway, eventually she brought me up to Professor Dumbledore's office, and he apologized for not having time to catch up with me himself. When I showed him my diagram, he asked if he could take it, and he read my mind to be sure it was the only copy."

Liz nodded, but did not say anything, or even look at him. She wouldn't have anything nice to say, anyway.

"He definitely modified something while he was in there. I remember talking to you about how he might do that, but there's something missing just before it, and just after it, too. I know, because there's something I was thinking about, more of a feeling really, that just doesn't line up anymore."

Liz simply nodded again. The parts where she blabbed about her role as a spy were probably gone now, and she needed to keep her trap shut. Dumbledore had probably done a sloppy job on purpose, as a message to her, knowing that Jason would come back and tell her about it.

"What was it, Liz?"

"Don't ask," she hissed. Then she softened her tone and asked, "If Albus Dumbledore personally modified your memory to remove something he thinks you can't know, then do you really think you should be asking for it back?"

When she glanced over, Jason's eyes were down on his own hands, and he visibly gulped before he said, "No, I suppose I shouldn't. But it's weird, and it's wrong, and I don't know how to make it right."

Liz muttered, "A kind of healing we shouldn't have to do. I'm sorry, Jason. My big mouth is the reason that happened, and I'm sorry." She had to bite her lip from blurting her opinion that she was a  _ terrible _ spy, and she figured she could save that for the next time she saw Severus. 

"I don't know how to make this right either," he said, gesturing broadly toward the exam table, now covered in only a slight dusting of ash.

Liz was absolutely serious when she said, "My plan is to down a whole bottle of rum and stay as numb as possible for a while."

The last of Siladora Demeter Avery Althea vanished to nothingness, and Jason held out his hand. "Let's go upstairs."

"No, thanks. I can't face them." Liz shuddered. "I was so detached to keep my head, and I don't think I want to re-attach in front of them."

"That's why you should, Liz," he insisted, reaching for her hand and gripping it tightly. "You hid, alone, after your dad died, too. You told me you wouldn't be alone, but you lied."

Liz allowed a moment to pass in silence as she re-considered her options. "No," she said again. "Lippy was home. Severus was there, too, although I didn't know that until morning. One night alone-ish was perfect. One night alone to fall apart by myself and then pick things back up the next day." She turned pleading eyes on him. "One day, Jason. Just one. I promise I'll talk to Ash and Trace tomorrow."

Jason gave her hand another quick squeeze, and then let her go.

She picked up her hemp-rope handbag, and she bolted out the front door. She ran. She ran to the path that would lead her to Hogwarts, and then she stopped, alarmed by the thickness of the fog, completely obscuring the towers of the castle she knew she should see by now.

The fog gathered around her, and she drew on her grief, swinging her arms wide to gather it up. If the dementors could harness negative emotions for their own sustenance, maybe she could, too. As an Air Priestess, this fog  _ belonged to her _ .

But her emotional pull on the raw magic wasn't enough, and all she could do was make the fog swirl in deceptively soothing spirals around herself. 

So she ran again, down the street and away from the fog. She ran past the Three Broomsticks and decided it was far too exposed for the level of drunk she needed now. She ran until she was sure no one at either of Hogsmeade's pubs would be able to look out and see her, and then she apparated.

For a minute, Liz wasn't so sure this was a good idea, but she kept running anyway. This was the bolt-hole she didn't get a chance to use today. This was the run by the stream that always helped her feel grounded and ready for what came next. She ran all the way to her tree fort, exactly as she had left it, and she dropped to her knees on the fluffy pink blanket.

She had never brought mum here, but she was certain Sila would have loved it.

Liz always kept a full bottle of liquor in her bag, and she was never so thankful for it as she was today. It was a large flask of high-quality gin, and she unscrewed the top and took a long pull. "Ah," she sighed as the alcohol burned her throat. Then she took another pull, twice as long, and she spluttered a bit on the bite of it.

"Bugger me," she whispered, "What am I supposed to do now?"

She had several answers to this, actually, and there were lots of people she could go to for help and sharing the grief. Severus, Werner, and the Blumwands had all known Sila and could commiserate with her. Ash and Trace could probably use a Soul Healer after their plan for the transfer went tits up in this spectacular fatality. Jason would no doubt provide an ear if Liz felt like talking. Dumbledore would probably distract her with some new horrible questions and their new horrible implications. She spared half a thought for running away to track down Riley, or even bail out of the country entirely and show up on the doorstep of Kochi-san or Miku-sensei.

But she was really thinking about Tonks, about her drinking buddy. Liz wondered what would happen if she got sloppy with anyone at all. What emotions would really come out when she let her inhibitions go? Was she really so sad about her mum? There was something nagging at Liz's heart, a feeling of... relief. It was a feeling much like she had this morning, when she and Severus decided to delay brewing the Gift. It was a feeling of freedom from responsibility. It was the end of Sila's suffering. It was the end of Liz's suffocating duty to care for her. It was the end of the intense frustration of untangling the plans Sila had made but couldn't speak of. If Liz got drunk with Tonks, would she scare off her new friend by saying how maybe, just maybe, Liz was glad that her mum was dead?

The flask glinted in the dim light that came through the roots, and Liz took another great gulp of it. Then she shook her head, feeling no buzz quite yet, and sped it up with another drink. The flask was half-empty now.

And then the voice of her father, from a conversation long ago, drifted through her mind.  _ We serve drinks in this setting because we can watch each other's backs. Booze makes us vulnerable, at the same time as it makes us numb. Promise me, Little Lizzy, that you'll never drink alone. At least go to a pub, even if you don't know anyone there. _

Liz finally felt like crying, but the tears wouldn't come. She swallowed another long sip from her flask and whispered, "I'm sorry, daddy."

Sila had broken every promise she ever made to Markus Althea, and now Liz was doubly concerned that she was too much like her mum.

Could she fix it? Which did she want more? To be alone? Or to be numb with drink?

Slowly, Liz stood up, and she felt the slight shift of her senses. Before the alcohol could hit her any harder, she gathered her wits and apparated, landing in a copse of trees at the edge of a playground down the street from the Household Residence. Something felt a bit off, and she held her hands up to see the torn edges of her fingernails. Then she slipped off her shoes, noting the gravel embedded in the soles and simply tossing them aside. As far as splinches went, this wasn't too bad.

She took a few minutes to sit on a swing, enjoying the rush of warm air past her ears, the beat of her heart as she simulated flying with this pendulum motion. Then she slowed down enough to jump off, stumbling with the buzz of the gin and panic at landing on her bare feet. She went down hard, staining her clothes and collapsing on her back in the dirt. Breathing deeply, she stared straight up from her position spread-eagle on the ground.

There was no fog here, but the sky was covered in low-hanging blankets of rippling, deary, stratus clouds. She stayed there for a few minutes, thinking the clouds could just come on down and smother her, and that would be just fine. Then she could see her daddy and apologize properly. Then she could see her mummy and tell off that mad bitch for leaving such a mess behind. Then she could see Semaki and together try their best to be little kids again, forever.

Liz did not injure herself severely when she jumped off the swing, so she eventually picked herself up and walked back to the house.

It was not quite four o'clock, and the Blumwands were still out. She drew herself a bath and eyed the flask one last time, deciding she had enough, before relaxing in the water and waiting out the lingering buzz.

This is where Severus found her, nearly an hour later. He conjured a stool and watched her bathe. With heavy-lidded eyes, and shame in her heart for the dark thoughts about the clouds, she simply stared back. After a few minutes, Severus broke eye contact first, looking at the floor as he said, "Ash came by Fatin's Looks, and he told me what happened. I'm sorry, Persephone."

She shrugged, and the quiet little lapping of the water on the porcelain sounded like a crack of thunder to Liz.

He scowled and sharply intoned, "Say something."

She winced and whispered, "I don't want to talk about it."

"I've been to see Albus. He assures me that none of his agents at St. Mungo's are responsible, and they will ensure the cover up is done in a way that it cannot be pinned on you."

Liz rolled her eyes. She supposed she should feel thankful, but she was sober again and trying with all her might not to feel anything at all.

His expression was still sour, but Severus slipped down to his knees and asked smoothly, "How else may I serve?"

Biting her lip, Liz shook her head a tiny bit.

The stricken expression on his face made her want to cry, far more than anything else that had happened today. "Are you sending me away?" He schooled his face and lowered his tone. "You should not be alone."

"My champion," she said quietly. "If you wish to stay, you may." She slowly stood to wrap up her bath. The cascading water was probably only a delicate trickle, but it roared in Liz's ears, and she wobbled a bit before she added, "But I still don't want to talk."

He helped her step out of the tub, wrapped her in the towel, and then held her close for a full minute before he pulled back, cupped her cheek, and said, "I have only one hour before I must go."

She shrugged.

"I tried to get out of it, and I'm already late, but I don't care. He can wait. This can't."

Once again, she bit her lip and shook her head. Then she tugged the towel tightly to her body and swept past him.

She did not look back, but she assumed he was there, tagging along like a lost puppy. She went straight to her closet and donned her comfortable leggings and cami, not bothering with her silk dressing robe. Severus was casting wards when she came out. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror and wished she hadn't. Her own gaze looked far too much like the un-seeing, un-focused eyes of her mother in the past month.

She sat on the edge of the bed, and Severus sat down next to her, but kept a respectful distance. "Persephone, it's very odd that you don't want to talk. Usually you say too much. This makes me regret every time I've told you to shut up."

Liz drew her wand and nonverbally summoned her master music box from her handbag. Then she asked it to " _ Play Applicable Song _ ."

She bit back a mad cackle when she realized what was playing. She wasn't entirely sure what it meant, and the reverence for the Sun was maybe a little concerning. But, despite this being the final track of the last album made by Kurt Cobain before his suicide, it was actually the first time all day she felt hope. She sang along, not bothering to temper her Siren's Song.

_ From "All Apologies" by Nirvana _

_ What else should I be? All apologies  
_ _ What else could I say? Everyone is gay  
_ _ What else could I write? I don't have the right  
_ _ What else should I be? All apologies _

_ I wish I was like you, easily amused  
_ _ Find my nest of salt; Everything's my fault  
_ _ I take all the blame; Aqua seafoam shame  
_ _ Sunburn, freezer burn; Choking on the ashes of her enemy _

_ In the sun, in the sun I feel as one  
_ _ In the sun, in the sun  
_ _ Married! Married! Married! Buried!  _

_ yeah yeah yeah yeah _

_ All in all is all we are  
_ _ All in all is all we are _

Whatever she was feeling, it must have come through all right, because Severus sat quietly, listening, eyes on the floor, even as he reached to hold her hand.

She didn't want to talk, but if that's what he wanted her to do, she figured she should try. Singing had been cathartic enough to build back a bit of confidence, and she didn't want him to feel any regrets on her account. She was his Priestess, and she would provide. She just needed to take it one thing at a time. So what one thing did she most want to tell him? It didn't take her long to figure it out. Easy, actually: "I love you, Severus."

His eyes snapped up to hers.

Then it was a lot easier to get out a bit more. "I would have run away from anyone else, so thank you for coming, but you should probably go before your delay becomes a problem."

He nodded slowly and then he asked, "Should I tell your family to leave you alone tonight?"

Her heart constricted, just a little, over the thought of her new family replacing the old one, but he was right to assign that label to them. Marlena would never be Sila, but some part of Liz was certain she wouldn't want another Sila anyway. "Yes, please."

He drew her into a firm embrace and murmured in her ear, "Go to work tomorrow. You don't actually have to work, but you should get out of here for a while. You don't have to be alone. You shouldn't be alone."

"I get it, Severus. I will go to work tomorrow." She gulped, unsure if she really should add, "I promise."

Then he pulled away, and he slipped through the wards, and Liz was alone.

She summoned her flask and contemplated throwing it through the window. Then she shook her head, opened it up, and numbed herself again over the next hour, until she fell asleep for the night, clutching her liquor and spilling the last drops on herself.


	22. I Wake Up and French Kiss the Morning

#  P1Ch22 Playlist

  * Title track: "Bed of Roses" by Bon Jovi 1992
  * "Blackbird" by the Beatles 1968
  * _she murmured melodic Latin with the exhale_  




Chapter 22 Playlist: <https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1bsG64cKfasvWn0Coelhak>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv?si=wa6STusCS-mI-A8Y8Il-vw)

#  Chapter 22: I Wake Up and French Kiss the Morning

Liz woke just before dawn and conjured a glass to fill with water. Before she did anything else, she needed to hydrate. Then clean up and get dressed. Then... well... then she wasn't so sure.

She had plenty of things she could do to follow up after losing her mother, but it just wasn't that easy to face it, not yet. So she wanted to spend the day working on something else entirely. With both Severus and Ash connected to the Dark Lord by the Mark, she suspected it wouldn't be long before she would be bowing and scraping and possibly writhing again on the floor of the throne room. Mum was dead, under dubious circumstances, and the only dark wizards she knew all belonged to  _ him. _

So Liz needed to be ready with a way to buy favor if there was any chance she herself would be next. She had a fortune, but literally buying favor would not impress the Dark Lord.  _ I despise the arrogant display of wealth, _ he had said. No, it would take something much more special than money.

She went to the park near her Residence to breathe the fresh Air in the early morning Sun, thinking of Werner's advice on what it meant to serve a cult Priest. She stayed longer than was strictly necessary, performing a yoga meditation and reflecting on the connection of Air and Sun.

As she walked slowly back to the house to floo over to the Haven, she thought about the other things the Dark Lord had told her when she was alone with him. She dwelled, for quite some time, on the idea that even Bella, who was clearly in mad love with him, would recoil from his natural visage. He had seemed down about it, and cautious about admitting it to her.

The only thing about him that made Liz cringe was that annoying hissing lisp.

Oh yes, she could work with that!

Scouring her music journals was a significantly easier task than the old secret healing notes. First of all, they were not locked up at Gringotts but easily accessible in her extended hemp-rope handbag, alongside her Charms class notebooks, where some of her initial invention ideas were scribbled in the margins alongside her neat-as-a-pin class notes.

Then, because they didn't have to be secret, she had not applied her optical illusion script, let alone her simple cipher or locking wards. Untangling her notes yesterday had been brutal, and they were unlikely to help more today since she couldn't use her Hand Healing. These notes were much easier, and much more likely to offer a workaround in terms of the resulting sound rather than the source anatomy.

At the last second, she also grabbed  _ Curses of Speech _ off the bedside stand and took it along to work, too. It was a Hogwarts library book, so she should probably just keep it on her until she was called back to the castle for a healing or debriefing.

Ash was at the main desk, but she just shook her head and swept past him, not even close to ready for that conversation. She was not sure her reaction would be appropriate at all if he even said hello. Today she just wanted to work, to give herself a little time for yesterday to feel real.

By lunch she had completed an initial skim of all her notes, each of the six years bringing her hope down another notch. She wasn't really hungry, but she got up to take a break and take a walk, maybe even find a new place to go for a run. She always felt more grounded after a run. Even an Air Priestess needed to be brought to Earth every once in a while.

_ Curses of Speech _ was perched on the edge of the desk and she knocked her hip into it on the way out.

"Merlin's saggy left nut!" she cried, gently rubbing the tender spot where she thought she would bruise over her pelvic bone. She took the book along with her, distracting herself with amusement over cursing at the curses book, and popped into the pharmacy to grab a jar of all-purpose anti-inflammatory balm made purely with muggle ingredients. Coconut oil, green tea, willowbark... She recited all the ingredients to herself as she gently massaged a small amount over the blooming yellow bruise, and she stowed the whole jar in her bag, just in case.

Deciding to have some lunch after all, she read the book between bites of a sandwich and sips of tea at the Three Broomsticks.

It had a whole chapter on lisp-related conditions, and Liz laughed without any amusement at all over the wasted hours this morning. She mechanically ate a bite and took a sip after reading each paragraph, giving herself time to process and connect the new information. As she washed down the finished sandwich, she had an idea of how to combine the counter of a babbling curse with the reversal of a hiss-lisp jinx. It would last longer with the anti-babble, maybe even be permanent if she could also tie in the anatomy fix she had dismissed earlier.

She threw coins on the table, including a generous tip, and rushed back over the Haven to work it out.

But her progress was delayed, once again, when she reached for the front door, and it opened first, slamming into her outstretched hand.

"Ow!" she cried, dropping the book and using her right hand to cradle her injured left against her full stomach.

"So sorry, Healer Althea," said Trace quietly, who had opened that door.

She eyed his bulging napsack suspiciously, stomach in knots from the possible meaning of his change in her title.

Trace bent to pick up the book, and then held the door open for her to come through.

Liz's hand was throbbing, but holding it in her good one seemed to be doing some good. A true accident, then, no fault of her own, thank the gods. A bad injury to her healing hands would be quite the problem at this point.

Trace didn't say another word, but placed the book carefully on the desk in front of Ash, tipped his head, and started walking back toward the door.

Liz stood numbly for a moment, and then she glanced at Ash, and then at Trace's back, and she said, "Wait."

He paused, turning slowly.

Once he was facing her, she found it difficult to meet his eyes, but she forced her chin up and asked, "You're leaving for good, aren't you?"

Ash spoke up, just out of her line of sight, "He already turned in his keys."

Trace added, "I bungled things badly yesterday. That was my plan, and it wasn't just a failure. It was a disaster. Without Mistress Siladora, I can't stay."

Her gaze dropped to the floor, but she nodded. "I think I understand, but, Trace, it wasn't your fault."

"We were all there," added Ash. "And I'm Head of Security."

"It wasn't your fault, either," she said sharply. She shifted her eyes between them, unsure if she was doing the right thing but panicking at the notion that this was the last time she'd have these two men in the same room alone. "I think she tried to predict this, but she couldn't explain it properly. If it was anyone's fault, it was hers."

Trace dropped his bag and raised his voice, for the first time Liz had ever heard. "How can you say that?"

"All right," she said, waving her hand dismissively and then hissing in pain as she brought it back against her body. "It was her clue about the date, and my incompetence to decipher it. I've known for over a week that the day was important to her, but I didn't expect..."

"Kiddo, we could have waited for another date."

She shook her head. "I don't think that would have saved her."

"It might have!" shouted Trace. "Time itself is magic! I needed to know that the date itself had an unknown. I needed to know so I could darn the gods-damned socks!"

Ash stepped between them, but Liz placed her unhurt hand on his elbow, and he took position on her left. She recognized this securing of her weak side and appreciated it, even as she said, "I'm sorry, Trace. I wish I had a better reason to offer, but I don't. Death rarely has a good reason to take our loved ones. I know that better than most."

Trace's expression twisted into a scowl that could rival Severus, and he said, "And I did love her. I loved her, and now she's dead. And we could have done something if you hadn't been so secretive and cold!"

Liz's stomach dropped. This was exactly the complaint she herself had about Dumbledore.

"Kiddo, you don't have to take this." Ash's voice was low and even. "From where I stand,  _ she _ was the one who was secretive and cold."

"And neither of you knew her like I did," insisted Trace. He ran his hand through his hair, and his scowl softened to a frown. Then he asked, "Were you even going to have a memorial ceremony?"

She hadn't even thought about it. She hadn't done anything for her father, either. Thinking fast, she said, "I don't have details on that either, but I promise I will review her will, to see what her wishes were."

The scowl was back. "You didn't know her at all, did you?"

Liz was stunned. Did she? Maybe she didn't.

"That's enough," said Ash, "Go now and calm down. We will inform you of Sila's final arrangements."

A minute later, he was gone, but Liz was frozen in place, hearing the question over and over in her mind.  _ You didn't know her at all, did you? _

"Kiddo?"

Liz blinked and focused. Ash's face was full of concern, and he had conjured a cold pack for her hand. She shrugged and took it. "He might be right. I didn't know her like he did. Even the things I thought I knew... I've been reading her diary and finding all sorts of schemes she had, prior encounters with the tutors I thought she had hired just for me, and an obsession with the goddesses of our namesake."

"That's just proof she was the one with all the secrets. If you hold anything back, Kiddo, it's because she set that example."

Shuddering, she shook her head. "You might be right, but, er, I have to admit feeling cold toward her. I'm not even all that sad that she's dead. She was sick for a long time. Long before she broke to utter madness. And the more I learn about those mad schemes, the more I think it would have been better if I had just never seen her again when she walked out on me and daddy twelve years ago to put those schemes in motion. I kept yesterday's date, as she predicted it, a secret from almost everyone, and I feel nothing but coldness now. For daddy, I cried and wailed. For mum, I feel so betrayed and tired that I can't even shed one tear. So you are right, and Trace is right, too." She put on a wry grin. "And if Trace had the courage and closeness to love her, then I should apologize for being so selfish and oblivious to his grief."

As she had spoken, one of Ash's eyebrows raised higher and higher, until both were halfway to his hairline and his eyes were open wide. "She was your mother."

Liz scoffed. "She was your sister, too, but you didn't exactly know her well, either, did you?"

"True," he conceded, stepping back over to the desk and drawing up a quill and parchment. "I will send a quick note to Herr Schwarz, asking him to see us about Sila's last will."

"Fine," she said, "But I already reviewed it with him when she was first institutionalized. I don't think we are going to find anything there about a funeral. I'm not even sure who would come other than Trace, and maybe the others she recruited for Fatin's Looks." She pulled the cold pack away to assess her hand as she continued, "It's the same for daddy, really. Maybe the regulars from the Raven Witch, and Jim who helped tend bar on busy Saturdays."

"You never held any kind of memorial for him, either?"

Vanishing the cold pack, Liz carefully ran the fingertips of her right hand over the bruised but numb digits of her left. "Full truth time: I don't even know what happened to his body. His mother called to say she wanted his remains, but, er, she's missing now, too. And, again, I feel far too cold toward her to be all that upset about it."

After sending the note through the floo, Ash turned back toward her. "That  _ is _ cold. Er, is that all the family you have on his side?"

Liz nodded. "By blood, she and you are all I have left. And I still don't know what to make of you."

"I don't know what to make of you, either, Kiddo."

She smiled. "Well, thanks for helping with this." She gestured with her hand, now bruise-free. "It is much better now. But I really have something important I was going to work on today, to keep my mind off everything else."

He bowed his head, and she picked up the book from the desk to go back to her office.

Liz spent the next couple of hours making notes on the dark magic that could cause lisps, drawing detailed pictures of the deformities that could cause lisps, practicing wand movements for counter-curses she expected to need, and then making detailed notes and drawings for them, too.

Then she dared to delve into her own memories to get a clear picture of the Dark Lord himself. She gripped her wand tightly to anchor herself before meandering through the well-protected labyrinth of her memory, and it was only a few seconds of review once she found it, but she was relieved when she opened her eyes and still felt like her sane-ish self. She pulled her notes closer and drew the lower half of his face as it really was, as his glamours appeared, and how she imagined his healed lips and tongue.

She was working on these final drawings when Ash knocked on the door. She flicked her wand to lower the wards, and he stepped inside.

"Healer Althea. Two things."

She paused, mid-stroke of her graphite pencil, to look up. "Yes?"

"Herr Schwarz will be available in his office any time tomorrow morning. May I suggest seeing him before coming here?"

"Yes, that's fine. Second thing?"

"Professor Snape is here to see you now."

"Ah," she said, setting down the pencil and leaning back in her chair. "Send him in. Perhaps you could help me with a third thing while I see to the Professor's needs?"

"What is it?"

"I should like to tie the parchments of my messages with a special ribbon. Narrow and sky blue, with light wispy clouds. If no such ribbon is to be found, any narrow and blue ribbon might do."

"Sure thing, Kiddo. I'll see if Healer Kayson will watch the front desk while I pop over to Scrivenshaft's. There are a few other office supplies we need, and I think they have binding ribbons and twine for parchment scrolls."

"Thank you, Master Avery."

Then he was gone, and Liz managed to clean up some of the shading in her drawings before Severus appeared in the doorway.

She smiled at him, and he came over to see what she was doing. He watched her for a few minutes before he finally spoke.

"Why are you drawing the Dark Lord's mouth?"

Smirking in triumph of her sketching, honed by years of anatomy lessons, she said, "An idea I had to help him without hurting anyone."

"Persephone," he said sternly, splaying one hand between her face and her parchment, obscuring her view and forcing her to stop. "If you help him at all, then at the very least you enable him to more thoroughly hurt someone later."

She stared at his hand, those elegant fingers. Liz longed for his touch. She wanted to be the knife at his cutting board, even if he was slicing foxglove. She wanted to be the stirring rod at his cauldron, even if he dipped her in bloodroot potion. She wanted to be the vial in his hand, even if he stoppered death within her.

Liz shook herself mentally and replied, "If I need something to offer him, I want to be ready. I spent this morning considering the magical union of Air and Sun, and I had an idea, and I think it will work." Then she snatched up all of her notes and drawings and rolled them tightly, conjuring a bit of twine to hold them together until Ash returned with her ribbon.

Severus withdrew that beautiful hand, clenching both fists at his sides. "And have you thought about what you would offer if you needed something for the Headmaster?"

She bristled. "He already has my truth and confidence, as you well know. He also has only to ask for my healing, my song, or my wealth. But he's going to have to have a damn good reason for me to go see him at all."

"He ordered me to bring you to him by the day's end."

She had been picking up her stationary, quills, and pencil, but now she slammed them all down on the desk, pushing herself up to her feet. "Why?"

"I wish I knew. I tried to talk him out of it. There is a good chance you'll see the Dark Lord tonight, as well, and with the Headmaster you are..."

Trailing off like that was not normal for Severus, and Liz wasn't sure why this irritated her so. "I am what?"

"A recently bereaved loose cannon on his ship."

Liz opened her mouth to protest, but found that she had no retort. He nailed it. So she giggled. Then she cackled, leaning with both hands on her desk. And then she felt her lip wobble.

Severus was at her side in an instant, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tightly. She hardly had time to snivel when Ash knocked on her door once again. Severus quickly stepped back from her before she opened the door, and she gratefully held out one hand for the roll of ribbon.

"Had to go to Gladrags. Is the pattern all right?"

The blue was a bit darker than she preferred, but it would be fine. The white polka dots were easy enough to transfigure to clouds. She unrolled a short length for her scroll and cast  _ diffindo _ to cut it. Then she tapped the point of her wand to the satiny weave, creating a circle of lemon yellow that shimmered like the sun, high in the summer sky.

"This will do for now. My transfigurations will last long enough for my current purpose. We may have to submit a bespoke order to Gladrags, or directly work with their ribbon supplier." She looked up from her work and smiled gently. "Thank you. That should be all for today. I will be leaving shortly for a consult at Hogwarts."

Ash bowed and withdrew once again.

Re-tying her day's work and tucking it in her secure pocket, she said, "Well, Severus, let's go. You know that I'll show up to keep you safe from any nasty consequences of ignoring his direct orders, and I know that trying to prepare at all for him will not help me from launching a verbal cannonball... or a few."

His stony expression was the only response to her smirking play on words. He did not say a word or touch her at all as they walked past Ash out of the building, past the other shops on their side street, and past the town line on the path to Hogwarts. Liz was much calmer when she got a proper lungful of Fresh Air, but inside she was a mess. They were only twenty paces down the path when she reached out.

Her left hand gripping gently on his right wrist, she slowed their stroll until they stopped. He gave her his full attention, but his expression was impatient.

"Severus," she whispered, and he stepped closer as though to hear her better, but he did not return her gentle touch. "Aren't you also feeling, er, bereaved?"

"Yes."

"Do you know if maybe Professor Dumbledore would be feeling it, too? He was Headmaster while she was at Hogwarts, but I don't know..."

"Maybe," he said, nodding thoughtfully. "There was a time, when you were very young, that he showed up in the dungeons asking very odd questions about Sila, her family, and our business. He never did that again. About a week later I was brewing dozens of potions at his request, and I remember thinking that this was his first real test of my limits as a Potions Master, catalyzed by his discovery of my side-business. At the time I was thankful for the work, actually, and it seemed that nothing much came of it, but now I think about how they were mostly healing potions, all intended for tasks that I now suspect you could do with your bare hands."

Liz was also nodding, deep in thought, when he finally put his other hand over hers on his arm and tucked it into his elbow to escort her. She smiled and stepped slowly along the path with him as she said, "Long odds, then, that he was fond of her, but possible that he was involved in one of her hare-brained schemes for me. I think, when I am feeling a little less shattered, that I would like to actually see that memory of the time he questioned you. The Headmaster's pensieve would be the safest way, I guess, and I'm sorry I was so dismissive about what I could offer him, because he might have resources I need if I could just think it through."

"It is very strange, Persephone, the way your strategy and innovation both actually  _ improve _ under emotional strain."

Chuckling, she said, "I believe the cliche is something about necessity and invention." Then she frowned. "But the reality is simply that I'm used to it. It's normal for me to be confronted with the worst things that ever happen to someone, and no time to spare." She shook her head. "I had just one holiday break, where I thought it was fine, that I could hole up in the greatest library in the world and study alone. I still didn't have enough time for everything I had to do, but I felt relaxed and maybe even a little happy, flirting with a boy there and making music of the gods. And then on Christmas Eve, my mother came to pick me up, and I learned that my new friend was also a healer, and the boy a distraction, and my mind truly deadly, and that was  _ also _ when I saw --"

"Please stop, Priestess."

She swiveled her head to look at him properly, and his dark eyes were narrowed, lines around them creased with concern.

"The look on your face when you remember the things you  _ saw _ is disturbing." He stopped, and he held both her hands in his. "No doubt, that actually seeing it was more so, but you need to focus now."

She looked over his shoulder, the castle gate looming near. "Right. Can we walk like this again after?"

He hesitated, and she felt her face falling until he simply said, "Yes."

In Dumbledore's office, they took their usual spots, declined the usual sweets, and waited in the usual awkward silence.

Then Dumbledore finally opened his mouth to speak, "Today I would prefer to avoid asking direct questions. Take a moment to think about why this might be so."

Liz glanced at her wrist, already conditioned to any hesitation causing tingles of pain. Then she swallowed hard and forced her eyes back to his. "I have a few ideas," she sneered.

"Then tell me about what happened yesterday."

"Is this really necessary?" asked Severus.

Liz shot him a look, but then shot the same one at Dumbledore. "Would you care to see it for yourself?"

"Please."

She gave a softer glance to Severus. "You may also view it if you wish."

She was actually glad of the reprieve, when Dumbledore extracted her memory. She was oddly serene as she admired Severus' backside while he was bent over the basin. It was a blissful hour of peace and quiet, and she rose from the chair to practice her yoga meditation while she was detached from this fresh trauma.

She had her hands up over her head, up on one foot, counting out her hold of the tree pose, when they lifted their heads and shuffled and turned both of their gazes on her. She counted her exhale out loud and then drew her breath and hands back up to mirror the pose on her other foot.

Normally she would close her eyes for this, but she held them open and watched them watch her. It tickled the exhibitionist in her. A performance. Another breath out, and she could feel the sum of her own power. Yes,  _ this _ was her element.

But she probably needed her memory back.

After forcing it down, she was ready to sit again. They all returned to their chairs, and Dumbledore surprised her by saying, "I am sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," she replied, knowing it was the right response but not really feeling it.

"She left clues."

Liz looked at her boots. " _ Four four one one. The wrong victim screams. The potion wasn't ready. _ " She shook her head and looked up again. "There might have been others, but I couldn't put it together. I still don't think I understand it completely."

Dumbledore frowned, though it was difficult to tell behind his beard. It was more in the creases around his eyes. "Her death is only one of your mysteries. She left other clues about other things."

"Her diary is a mess, but there is probably more there, too."

"Come, now, Miss Althea. You know the topic of the last question I could not complete."

She glared. "And the diary is relevant." She gave Severus a brief but meaningful look. "And the dance she showed me."

"But you have not completed the ritual."

Liz could feel her jaw locking up as she tamped down a great urge to blurt too much. She looked again to Severus, who was rubbing his own, scowling as deeply and viciously as she had ever seen.

Dumbledore steepled his fingers in front of himself. "I would prefer not to force you."

Her lip curled into a sneer, but it was only because she saw how he directed this statement toward Severus, and she completely agreed, despite how much she wanted him. Her eyes lingered on the slightly slumped shoulders of the man next to her. He might be her Lead Champion, tasked to protect her, but she was his Priestess, responsible for his well-being. "I need more time with the diary. Severus has his own leads to research. And I doubt it would work at all if there is any coercion. So we are going to do it when we are gods-damned ready, and not a moment sooner."

A tiny smile turned up on the lips of both of the men, and Liz wasn't sure what to make of this approval.

"Are we done here?"

"No. I do have one question for you. Are you ready to meet the Dark Lord again?"

Liz hesitated long enough to feel the low-grade burn on her wrist. Finally she decided to keep it simple. She could always say more, but she couldn't take anything back if she said too much. "Yes."

The burn was gone instantly, and Liz smirked with more than a little bit of smugness at how well she had done that she served her own intent as well as his.

Severus rose from his chair and held his hand out to her. "That's very good, Persephone, because I expect to be called any time yet today."

She took it, but she did look to Dumbledore for dismissal. He nodded to each of them "Good luck, Miss Althea, Severus."

Soon they were back on the path to Hogsmeade, but Liz was looking for the dying aspen tree that marked her favorite side-track. When they finally approached, she took Severus by the hand and tugged him between the aspen and its neighboring pine, carefully planting her boots one step at a time, winding between more pines until they reached the clearing about thirty steps off the path.

The trees were so thick, they could not see back where they had been. It was the middle of the afternoon, but the sky was overcast, and the fog rolled in under foot, giving an eerie translucent blanket to the bed of dried brown pine needles.

"We should not be here." He drew her close and wrapped her inside his cloak with him. "The dementors are too close."

She smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder, murmuring into his ear. "They cannot touch me when I am with you."

He tightened his arms around her shoulders, and she slipped hers around his waist. Then he snorted. "I'll bet you bring all the boys here to whisper such sweetness."

Amazed by the tease in his voice, Liz chuckled. But then, low and even, she admitted, "It's a special place, but Kellan was too paranoid of getting caught here." She pulled back just long enough to smirk at him. "Hogsmeade weekends are busy, and you in particular take far too many House points for innocent snogging sessions."

He raised one eyebrow and pulled back a little farther. "Do I, now?"

She watched as he removed his cloak and laid it flat on the ground, but she replied, "Oh yes, and the not-so-innocent ones, too. Daphne was very upset this spring when you took fifteen points  _ each _ from her little fanclub playing Spin the Bottle."

Severus lowered himself slowly onto the cloak, stretching his long legs so the left laid flat and the right bent at the knee, foot planted firmly. He leaned back on his left palm and then gestured with his right arm as if inviting her to lounge with him.

Liz grinned and turned to drop her bum next to his hips, her left thigh draped over that left palm, pinning him by his own support. She boldly took his free hand and draped it around her own waist. Settled together, on his cloak, Liz sighed in contentment.

He said, "They had drunk that bottle first, and were well on their way through another. When I was that age, that game was all about the dare, but they had turned it into a drinking game, too."

"Hmm," Liz murmured. "Maybe if the toad hadn't restricted the sizes of our gatherings, even on Hogsmeade weekends, effectively banned all our clubs, and cracked down on curfew, then we wouldn't have been day-drinking in the common room. I was shocked when that included quidditch, even if she did eventually give the House teams a pass. I don't even like quidditch, but it keeps teenage boys active enough to stay out of my hair."

Severus scowled. "She made a lot of enemies that day. The staff agrees with you, mostly."

"Mostly?"

"Don't ask."

For a minute, she simply leaned against him, breathing deeply the summer breeze and noting the chilly finish of the otherwise soothing Fresh Air. Then she asked quietly, "Any idea how long we have before the next crisis?"

"Honestly, I'm not even sure it will be today. I said that to get out of there faster. I told you the same earlier so you would not give away the ruse with the way your face is an open book."

Liz rolled her eyes, and they landed on her own hands in her lap. "I hate all the hurry-up-and-wait. I have things to do."

He stiffened.

"Like you," she winked, poking her tongue out to lick her lips.

Despite his posture relaxing, Severus scowled again. "At least the Dark Lord has a preference for the window between supper and midnight. The Headmaster's timing is all over the map. It's probably better that way, strategically, but it's bloody annoying."

Liz scowled, too, but it was at the rolling fog, which was thickening and bringing a chill to their lounging spot.

He tightened his grip on her shoulders and asked quietly, "Can you cast a patronus?"

She shook her head. "Not a corporeal one. I'm not so sure I have a memory suitably happy."

"It doesn't have to be a single memory. And  _ happy _ is a bit too broad to choose the most effective moment and feeling.  _ Joyous _ is rather closer. Maybe on the edge of  _ euphoric _ . Though I have the experience against dark creatures, you are probably more in tune with the nuance of feeling. You should make many attempts, exploring that entire family of emotions. If I ever get my chance to teach Defense, I would welcome your opinion on this method of combating dementors."

This explanation helped a lot, actually. She had plenty of memories she  _ thought _ were happy, and she had worried about what that meant when faced with the formless wisps of her own patronus. And his idea for her study of the charm was a good one, as his ideas usually were.

As she pondered his words and her past experience, she could feel a little current of Air circling them. Noting the way the fog cleared in a meter radius around them, Liz smiled at Severus and said, "This moment might just be a little joyous, thinking about the ways we complement each other." She tipped her head down and drew her lips to a smile. "And it could be euphoric if you kiss me."

He obliged, and she closed her eyes as his hand rose up from her waist to wind through her hair and pull her closer.

She locked this feeling into her memory. Leaning her hands on his cloak, pressing her lips to his, tasting that hint of mocha latte, the sound of her own breath loud in her ears, and the full-body high of her heart thundering with joy and anticipation.

Then she pulled back, drew her wand, and cast, _"_ _ Expecto patronum! " _

It was hard to make out exactly which bird burst forth from her wand, and it circled the small clearing, rising higher and pushing out the radius of the fog as it chirped out a melodic song.

Liz closed her eyes and listened carefully. She knew that song, somehow. One of the birds in Marlena's garden, maybe.

Severus leaned in close and murmured in her ear. "A songbird. How predictable."

"Oh, hush," she scolded, and then giggled, holding out her hand out as a perch, almost the form of a formal greeting.

The magical bird glowed brighter and spiralled back down to the place where the two of them still sat on the ground, landing neatly on her finger. Though a patronus was always silvery-gray in color, she could easily imagine the right color on this one.   


"Well aren't you just a little flute of a warbler?" She giggled again, and tilted her head toward Severus without taking her eyes off the animal. "A common blackbird, I think."

The bird pecked at her fingers.

Liz was oddly pleased to be chided thusly, and she grinned. "Sorry, sorry, there's nothing common about you, is there?" Then she drew a deep breath and called out in tune, " _ Blackbird fly, blackbird fly... Into the light of a dark black night _ ."

It turned its little beak to point directly at Severus, and then it opened wide and blew her away with an exact reproduction of the words she just sang.

Gobsmacked, Liz watched as it launched and flew off, spiraling back up, singing its own trill when it reached the top and flew over the trees toward the walking path.

Her jaw was hanging open, so she snapped it shut and turned toward Severus. "Tell me that was normal and expected."

His eyes held a touch of the mirth she had felt a moment ago, and it calmed the slight uneasiness she felt in this moment. "Usually," he drawled, "for those who can even cast a corporeal patronus, it takes a little more practice to connect with your patronus in that way, but considering the power infused in your song, I would say that was normal and expected."

She breathed a little sigh of relief and then grinned, feeling again the joy and mirth that allowed her to cast and maintain such an apparition in the first place.

"It is useful for sending emergency messages across short distances, but it is a method which the Dark Lord knows is favored by the Order of the Phoenix."

Mirth squashed, she said darkly, "I see." What a shame that practicing such glorious magic must be weighed against the risk of retaliation from a Dark Lord who was probably incapable of feeling such joy. "Have you ever seen  _ his _ patronus?"

"No."

"Hmm, so what's  _ your _ patronus?"

His eyes narrowed, but he reached to wrap his free arm around her again. "Yours is better. Whenever we need one, you should cast it."

Despite the praise and affection, Liz could feel her expression sour. He hadn't answered her question, and she didn't exactly believe that she would have already passed his skill at this charm.

"The patronus is soul magic,  _ Healer Althea _ , which is just another reason I'm not surprised by the strength of yours. In fact, I am surprised you hadn't mastered the corporeal patronus long before today." He frowned, not quite all the way to a scowl. "It's a defense of your own soul against any evil that would drain you of it."

Liz suddenly wished Severus had been teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts all these years, as the rumors suggested he wanted, and as he himself had implied during this very conversation. Her professor on the subject of the Patronus Charm had been a Death Eater in disguise, distracted by a side-mission of delivering Potter to the Dark Lord, and never once demonstrating the charm himself. Her overall education on this essential field of study was fragmented at best, and she was getting just a bit angry thinking about it now. How many students -- children! -- had been robbed of the knowledge and skill to effectively defend themselves, when Severus was right there the whole time?

He interrupted this train of thought to say, "Just remember the first rule of soul magic is to study your own, before you go meddling in others."

She saw the way his eyes darted around the clearing, as the fog came rolling back in, and she forced herself to look for the bright side. At least she could learn about this from him now, and maybe later she could offer, in return, that insight he had requested, to leverage her expertise at intuitive magic. For now, she offered him a gentle smile. "Yes, reality might be a little more nuanced, but that's a fair rule of thumb. I suppose I have more studying to do now, to catch up on the symbolism and power of the humble blackbird, and of course, more practice with special attention to the range of applicable feelings."

That expression of approval on his face never failed to please her.

But then that expression turned to a grimace, and he wobbled where he was propped on his left arm, and Liz put both her hands on his shoulders to steady him. "What's wrong?"

"Time to go."

"Already?" Liz scowled as she hauled them both up. "So much for the window between supper and midnight."

He scowled, too.

"Don't worry," she teased, slipping her arms around his waist. "I won't tell anyone he proved you wrong within an hour of your claim."

Severus held her tightly and apparated.

She had expected to arrive at the warm, floral grounds of Malfoy Manor, but the air that kissed her flesh was cool and clear, and when she opened her eyes, the vista stole her breath away.

They were on a flat ledge, up a mountainside, just above the treeline, and Liz had to slow her breathing to adjust to the thinner atmosphere. The ground was covered in a moss or lichen or some such, a dull green oasis of a platform among the gray and brown rock. A hooded figure stood a few meters ahead, with his back to them as he gazed over the ledge into the setting sun. This black profile, backlit by the sun, was both intimidating and beckoning.

Liz stepped forward first, not even looking at Severus to see if he would follow. Her eyes were glued to the Black Hole Sun.

She stopped, about four paces from her target, when she heard him hiss, "Severusss."

"Yes, my Lord?"

"A griffin family nesssts in this range. A gold vein lies there." He raised one long arm to point his bony finger halfway up the next peak.

Liz wasn't looking at Severus, still unable to tear her eyes from the dark wizard ahead, but she heard the distinct  _ pop _ of apparition and assumed Severus was off to collect freshly-shed claws for potions.

And finally, the Dark Lord turned to face Liz, stepping inward from the ledge until they were nearly toe-to-toe. He lowered his hood as he turned just right to reveal his face, reflecting the sun instead of blocking it.

When she got a good look, something wasn't quite right. His glamours were very polished, nearly perfect this time, except for one that shimmered a bit on his face. Maybe he was trying to glow like the Sun, or maybe...

He saw how she stared, so he dropped the glamour, and she gasped at his cracked teeth and bruised upper lip. By instinct she leaned toward him and raised one Healing Hand before thinking better of it. A fleeting panic of a thought came through her mind, acknowledging how easily he could kill her and dump her body among the mountains. She only allowed this for a split-second, then lowered her hand, pictured some steel in her spine, and asked, "My Lord, was there no healer available to assist you after?"

There was no emotion at all in his voice or expression as he said, "The best healer was in no condition to assissst, and had also just proven unable to touch me."

The praise was a welcome relief for her nerves, despite the danger of being unable to fulfill her role as the best healer. "Please allow me to cast a pair of healing charms."

"It is strange, Healer Althea, that such charms had no effect when Narcissa tended me."

Liz thought fast, suddenly thankful for the nasty bruise, still sore on her own hip. "I carry a balm that may soothe your flesh, and I have an idea for your teeth, and I believe I can indeed touch you to apply both, as long as you do not bite me again."

She could feel the dark currents of raw magic turn sharp and deadly.

"Master, please," she begged, dropping to her knees, no doubt staining her robe with the sickly green organic matter on the ground. "If it works as I expect, then it will be even better than healed."

"Better?"

She bit her own lip, gathering her courage to look up at him and claim, "You won't need quite so many glamours to ensnare the shallow and arrogant with your handsome charm."

In the silence that followed, she dropped her eyes down again. Then he asked, "And what happens if it does not work as you expect?"

Heart pounding, she admitted, "There's always a slight risk, with any magical healing, of making it worse."

"You would further disssfigure your Lord and Master."

"I have no doubt that we will succeed," she said, trying not to get testy. "If I am wrong then I would accept just punishment for my mistake."

A raspy hiss escaped him, and Liz snapped her head up, trying to confirm if it was a laugh. He asked, "Do you believe your last punishment was jussst?"

She had anticipated a question like this and hoped optimistically that this answer would suffice: "I am astonished and grateful to still be alive."

The silence that fell was eerie at best, but the sharpness receded from the raw magic in the thin Air, and Liz breathed deeply as she gathered her courage once again.

"Perhaps you would care to review my work from this morning, when I was still unaware of the damage from that last encounter." She dared to reach into her pocket and retrieve the rolled up parchments, holding them up in the cup of both hands, head down to expose her neck.

He stepped toward her, and she felt the rush of lusty dark magic as his fingertips brushed her palms when he snatched up the scroll. She lowered her arms and raised her head to watch his reaction.

As he examined the ribbon, she saw his eyelids drop, not narrowing in suspicion but softening in approval. "The sssun at the top of the sssky. A fitting symbol for a gift from my High Priestess of Air."

"Yes, High Priest."

He rolled the scroll between his hands, but did not open it. "You surprise me, Healer Althea. You have just lost your mother, but you ssspent the day working for me."

She shrugged. "Work is a healthy distraction."

There it was again, that raspy hiss, and this time she was watching, and she was sure it was some kind of amusement. "Do you have no questions about my involvement in her death?"

"Oh I have plenty, but daring to voice them is another matter, and I don't much care for the notion that even beyond the veil she is interrupting my service to you in this moment."

"Then you did not know I accepted her service long before I accepted yours."

Eyes back on the ground, she whispered, "I am starting to believe that I didn't know her at all."

"Sssiladora had many secretsss. Some have become yours, and sssome have died with her. You will have many more of your own, in time." Finally, the Dark Lord slid the ribbon off the scroll and began unrolling the stack of parchments. His face was unreadable for a full minute, as he carefully read the first page and then glanced through the drawings. Rolling the set back up, he turned an intense gaze onto Liz.

She felt a little tingle at the edges of her thoughts, and she wondered at the risk of allowing him a glance into her mind. Blinking slowly, she pulled one particular emotion to the front: the burning ambition to complete the plan she had laid out in these notes. She had begun this day feeling a dull dread of this very encounter, but now she  _ wanted _ the magic, she  _ wanted _ the taste of success, and she  _ wanted _ to see what the Air and the Sun could accomplish together.

As he handed the scroll back to her, he said, "Your mysteries are already much more powerful than hersss. Let us proceed."

"Yes, thank you, Master." Without hesitation, she stood up and stripped off her outer robe, tossing it on the ground and then stepping back close to him. It was a little chilly at this altitude, but she wanted fewer encumbrances, so she simply squared her shoulders and said, "Breathe along with me as I touch you."

He tilted his head in a questioning angle.

"I need to feel and listen to the way your breath flows over your tongue and lips. Consider it further assurance that I have chosen the correct ritual before I attempt it."   


"Proceed."

The note of impatience in this word hastened her work. Luckily, he was a quick study, copying her breathing exactly, and she was able to identify exactly what she needed in just a couple of minutes, despite the rush of pure lust that flowed through her when she touched him.

Then she opened the jar of balm, and she gently applied it while she worked her Hand Healing. Her heart was pounding, and she was thrilled to see the cracks in his teeth close, the bruise fade, and the anatomy she remembered slowly heal.

"There, now," she said, withdrawing and taking one step back. "Enough time has passed and our intents both clarified, and we are back to where my ritual notes assumed we could start." She smiled gently. "Please stand at the ledge with me, breathe with me again, pose with me, allow me to think out loud for just a moment."

He touched his own face, testing the results, and then the curious tilt was back, and she wondered if he was considering entering her mind again, despite the risks. But then he went back to the ledge, and she joined him. As she transitioned her postures among simple upright arm and core stretches, she spoke while watching that he was mimicking her.

"I never quite realized," said Liz on her way out of the Sun Salute, "just how close the Air and the Sun really are until this morning, when I woke with the dawn." Then she held her spine straight and her arms directly out, parallel to the ground. "It's the Sunrise, my Lord," she said as she drew her arms up and then down to rest, "that best connects me, Air, to you, Sun." She tipped her hands forward and brought her elbows together before spreading her arms wide once again. "It's the glorious start of a new day, a new chance to make the most of this world and our place in it." Arms up again, and back to rest again. "Air is imperfect, and makes the clear, perfect Sun appear hazy, almost, almost as groggy as us mere mortals, enslaved to your rhythms." She repeated the two arm stretches twice more, as if to build such a rhythm.

Despite the peace she was building in her body, mind, and heart, this might have been the most dangerous thing she ever did. Yoga with the Dark Lord, instructing him in the Mysteries of Air.

They fell silent as she continued her usual vertical routine, and then he spoke. "Even farther eassst, among another mountain range, I met a guru who practiced thisss magic, but I did not appreciate the significanssse at the time." Then the Dark Lord stepped back and held out his hand, nonverbally summoning her scroll from the robe she abandoned on the ground. "The wand movement could be tweaked to follow thisss pose..."

He used his own wand to sketch over her final drawing with a sweeping arc of the Sun Salute and the exhale to resting position, and then he handed it back to her. It was right. This drawing itself now held the magic of the movement, and t was going to work!

She was blown away at this, and fought the gust to reclaim her footing, glancing cautiously at the great fall if she literally tripped just a few paces to her left. She had to do this, serving the Dark Lord, and now she really  _ knew _ she could succeed. For in that moment Liz understood. This man, above all else, was an intellectual on a quest for power. He would not be truly impressed by her soul-healing, her Siren's Song, or her command as a High Priestess. He would be moved, most of all, by the pleasure of learning and creating something new. The pleasure of using, feeling _ , a _ nd  _ being  _ magic.

Liz felt oddly giddy about this, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, "Are you ready?"

She had seen enough of his real face by now that she was certain the quirk of his mouth was a smile.

As she cast, she could feel it, the flow of the Air backed by the power of the Sun. She inhaled deeply with the sweep of her arms up over her head, and she murmured melodic Latin with the exhale on the way down. Touching only her wand, she felt more in control of her intent, and she healed him. She did it. Her own jaw dropped in relief, and surprise at just how easy it was. She did it!

As she sheathed her wand, he spoke. "Yes, Healer Althea, I can feel the difference. You succeeded. I am impressed."

Not a trace of the lisp remained. Yes! " _ We _ succeeded," she corrected gently. "This would not have been nearly as effective without your adjustment to the wand movements. I wish I could remember who told me you are the world's leading expert on dark rituals, because I'd like to sing your praises as the leading expert on  _ rituals _ , no adjectives or caveats required."

"Save the celebration for a less personal victory," he said slowly, as if he was relishing each hiss of the s-sound rather than impeded by it. Then he smiled, and she was so taken by the improvement to his face, she had to catch herself from planting a kiss on those healed lips. As she corralled her lust to a mere grin, he changed the subject, still speaking slowly, clearly, and tasting each s-sound as it came out without tripping over it. "Your mother was desperate to save you. She would have done anything, but she was not nearly so capable."

That wiped the grin off her face. "Save me from what? You?" She scoffed, thinking  _ he _ was the one who needed saving, tattered soul and all that.

"Yes, and more." The curious tilt was back again, and he said, "Ask. You have earned any answer I can give."

Liz narrowed her eyes. "Who ordered her death, and why?"

His smile turned savage. "A god." Liz blinked in surprise, but before she could ask him to elaborate, he shook his head. "Do you know the legend of your namesake?"

"The nature of the Greek gods is  _ mysterious _ . I know some things, but I have no doubt I am missing important details."

"And those mysteries are protected, often much better than the Elemental Mysteries."

Liz nodded. "I think I knew that, on some level."

He changed the subject, though later she would wonder if it was really such an abrupt change. "How is your research for Bella's treatment?"

"Slow," she hissed, frustrated, and beginning to feel lightheaded from both the physical exertion in the Mountain Air and the mental leaps they had been making over the last hour. "And I have not yet heard back from my expert on binding marks. I am still optimistic, but I'm sorry to say I have nothing to show for it right now."

He reached and stroked her face, and she could feel the arousal slicking her panties as her breathing grew ragged. The Dark Lord spoke, barely above a whisper, to say, "I am feeling generous after the performance you just gave, but I expect results by the next time we meet."

She dropped slowly to her knees and exposed her neck, thankful that this took his hand off her person, clearing her head. "Thank you, High Priest, Lord, and Master."

Then she heard the barest rustle of fabric, and the  _ pop _ of apparition, and the Dark Lord's most grand voicing. "She looks more weary than you, Severus. Take her home. Provide the comfort of the Consort."


	23. Hey, Wait, I've Got a New Complaint

#  P1Ch23 Playlist

There are no named songs in this chapter. The chapter title is a lyric from "Heart Shaped Box" by Nirvana (1993), which you can listen to on Spotify at <https://open.spotify.com/track/11LmqTE2naFULdEP94AUBa>

Master List of All Named Songs in the Series: [https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5RCVfaWsXbczopjZ8xzofv](https://open.spotify.com/track/11LmqTE2naFULdEP94AUBa)

#  Chapter 23: Hey, Wait, I've Got a New Complaint

Severus took her home, but she dropped onto her bed fully clothed, passed out, and didn't wake until the next morning. He was long gone, and she had an appointment.

It really wasn't so hard to go to Werner about mum's last will, when she had Ash at her side. She could keep aloof for the sake of their fragile family bond and clinical business relationship. They even planned the whole thing for both her parents, four days hence, on-site at the cleaned up shell of a building once known as The Raven Witch.

The far more challenging problem was the pagers. St. Mungo's had a patent on the magic that powered them, and they were stingy with licensing. Mentago only had them because of the distinct difference in clientele. The Haven was far too much competition to hold out any hope of acquiring rights.

"Maybe we should just get mobile phones," Liz finally said in a huff.

Both men stared at her blankly.

"Muggle technology. Instant vocal communication, two way, with anyone whose mobile identification number you have in your list."

Ash looked at her in disbelief. "They can't do that."

"Sure they can, but don't take my word for it." She offered him a smile she hoped looked as feral and threatening as it felt. "I dare you, Master Avery, to take the postal address of your alias Andy Adny to the nearest muggle shop called a RadioShack, and ask them to set up four mobile lines for your family. One for you, me, Jason, and Werner. I doubt it will work for me at Hogwarts, once school starts, but you can always floo me there. The goblins at Gringotts should be able to help you when you get the first invoice for monthly service."

"If that works," said Werner cautiously, "That would certainly solve our immediate problem, and quite possibly a few others of my own."

They both looked at Ash, who raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

Werner collected the parchments and then gave Liz a serious look. "If that is all, Master Avery, then I would ask for a private meeting with Healer Althea. There is one more sensitive matter we should discuss."

She hardly had to glance at Ash for him to take the hint. "I'll see you at the Haven, Kiddo."

When he was gone, Liz slumped in her chair and pinched the bridge of her nose, hoping the pressure she felt in her sinus was  _ not _ the beginning of a headache. A headache always put her in a foul mood.

Werner said, "Master Avery seems sincere. I was worried on that first day he showed up under an alias, but since then he has only acted in the best interest of your business."

Liz snorted. "Yes, he makes it very difficult to stay upset with him." She raised her head and gave Werner her full attention. "What else do we need to discuss?"

"Two things, actually, though it's best if anyone outside your coven does not know just how many sensitive topics you discuss with me here."

"Of course."

"First is paperwork for your bank accounts, specifically the ones that were your mother's." He slid a stack of parchments toward her.

She eyed it warily.

"Just take a look at a few key sections," he said, pointing first to the contact information and personal details of the individuals and institutions involved. "Review this for any errors. Then Part II lays out the terms, which are the same as your accounts. The final section schedules a physical transfer of assets, so that the goblins can close redundant vaults. Can you keep August 24th, a Saturday, reserved for them on your calendar?"

Shrugging, she said, "I can try."

"You'll have to do better than try, Priestess, if you sign this." He frowned. "I know you are grieving for your mother and stressed over much more than that, but you need to keep your head and stay on-task. Ash said you've also been showing up late to work. That's not like you."

Liz shook her head and looked to the side. "I'm sorry. I have so much to do, and it's getting harder to keep it all straight, much less find the motivation for it all, but I will do better. I will make a point of keeping the date with the goblins, and I promise I won't be late to work again." She glanced at the clock, already approaching nine. "Except maybe today."

Werner's face was still concerned, but he nodded once and returned his attention to the parchments. Liz could see this in her periphery, and she focused on the paperwork as well. He said, "Sign when you are satisfied."

She sighed. Normally she would carefully read every document in front of her, but she just couldn't focus like that today. She reviewed the information in Part I for errors, as Werner instructed, and then simply trusted his judgement on the rest.

Documents signed and filed, Liz gathered her courage and asked, "What was the second thing?"

"Your mother had a house elf."

Liz nodded.

"Have you seen this elf since she died?"

Her stomach dropped. "Lippy?"

With a muffled  _ crack _ she appeared at the side of the desk. "How can Lippy be serving Mistress?"

"I have been meaning to ask you about the moment I saw you at Malfoy Manor."

Lippy covered her ears with her hands, tugging on them.

"You are not in trouble, Lippy. Do not harm yourself. You remember what happens if I have to heal you."

Hardly loud enough to hear, Lippy replied, "Yes, Mistress," and lowered her hands.

"But how exactly did you come to call Cissy Malfoy  _ Mistress _ as well?"

Saucer-wide eyes met hers. "Master Snape was calling me to Master Dumbledore, who was explaining my duties."

Scowling at the easy way Lippy called these two men  _ Master _ , Liz snapped, "What duties?"

Hands back to her ears, Lippy closed her eyes and chanted, "Can't tell, can't tell, can't tell..."

"All right, Lippy, that's all right." She tried to sound soothing, but there was definitely a sour note in her voice when she added, "I know how Dumbledore likes his secrets." She sighed. "I suppose I should have anticipated something like this, when I allowed him to employ you, however briefly, in the Hogwarts kitchens."

"Yes, Mistress," Lippy whispered.

"Is there anything else I need to know about your service?"

"The Averys are different," she said promptly. "My  _ kind _ is being bound to places, but my  _ kin _ is being bound to families." She shook her little head and stared at the floor. "Other Masters is having power as Mistress allows, but Lippy is a Avery elf.  _ Your _ elf, Mistress."

"So, if I refused to allow the others their orders, you would obey me and defy them?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"I never gave Severus explicit power over you. How did you come to call him  _ Master _ ?"

A sickly brown blush crept up her neck, and Lippy turned her big eyes to Werner.

"You may speak freely in front of my Ways and Means Advisor. He needs to understand all the power I have and all the ways it might be usurped."

"First was Mistress Siladora at Fatin's Looks."

Liz thought about this for a minute. "I can see how mum might think it would be useful for Severus to have your assistance at their place of business. But this service with the Headmaster did not happen there, and she is dead now. So what else?"

"Master Snape is Lead Champion."

"Ah, that makes more sense. He is my right hand and my enforcer. If you were human, he would outrank you simply as a matter of coven protocol, let alone the nuance of how the Averys bound the house elves centuries ago." She sighed. This was a knot of interests she did not have the focus to untangle. What did she need most? After a moment to think it over, she said sternly, "I wish to be informed any time the Headmaster calls for you, even if you cannot tell me the details."

Lippy nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her little mouth. "Yes, Mistress."

Werner piped up, "I approved this course, Priestess."

"All right, Lippy, you may go."

And with another  _ crack _ she disappeared.

"Ugh," she groaned. "I hate micromanaging."

A rare grin graced Werner's face. "That's usually my job, but considering this is Lippy and Severus, with a dose of Albus Dumbledore’s notorious meddling, I'd rather not touch that drama if I don't have to."

"Naturally. It's awkward enough without a game of telephone in between. Thank you for bringing it to my attention."

"Telephone?"

Liz grimaced. "Muggle kids game. Start with a message that only the first player knows... You know what, nevermind. I need to stop using such phrases in the first place, let alone launch into far too good of an explanation for the pureblood supremacists to handle."

"That would be wise, if unfortunate. Don't be too surprised if Ash refuses to carry a mobile, for exactly the reason you wish to filter your references to muggle technology." He sat back and raised one eyebrow. "What would you say at Narcissa Malfoy's next party, if you had made the same gaffe about the telephone game, right up to  _ nevermind _ ?"

She thought it over for a moment. Then she put a serene smile on her face, despite the self-loathing in her gut, and replied. "Nevermind. The muggles are such children. I left that game behind years ago with the squibs in the dirt of Ethiopia."

"Hmm. That is cold, but it will probably do the job you need it to do."

"Job," she mumbled, with another glance at the clock and another grimace on her face. "Please don't remind me. Gods, I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. Since I'm already in Diagon Alley I'll just grab a brunch bite somewhere before I go in. I'll floo over at the Leaky Cauldron. Thanks for everything, my champion."

She didn't actually go to eat. Instead, she went running at her favorite spot along the creek in the middle of nowhere. The precision footfalls of the rocks by the rapids were the perfect distraction from her griefs and focus on the assistive cushion of the Air.

She did not stop at the sturdy old oak tree, although the roots were still in the form of a privacy fort, and she was sorely tempted to stick around for some personal time and a release.

Instead, she ran all the way to the muggle village. It took two hours, with how she had to stop and walk to catch her breath in the middle of the run. When she arrived, a little diner was still open for lunch, and she sucked down water and shoveled down eggs and toast, leaving a generous tip for the server who gossiped with the cook, just near enough that Liz could eavesdrop.

Oh how she wished her problems were as simple as a cheating boyfriend, a curfew-breaking teen, and a questionable expiration date on the tuna salad in the diner's icebox. As she ran back along the path, the Fresh Air was the only antidote for the disgust she felt as she considered these thoughts against the mindspace she had tried on for size in Werner's office.  _ The muggles are such children _ . None of this sat well with Liz, despite how she'd probably have to handle it calmly later. None of it helped as much as she had hoped when she blew off work today. It was foggy and cold, and precipitation started spitting on her long before she reached the oak.

Fuck that noise. She apparated out of the wet fog, straight to a nook behind a liquor store, a place she had been a few times running alcohol for the Raven Witch.

She hadn't met the cashier on duty today, so she was happy to have stowed her fake IDs in her hemp rope handbag, just in case she needed one. Even so, she wasn't going to be shy. She was on a mission, and she had learned long ago that faking the confidence was as important as forging the documentation. Her difficult experiences at a young age certainly helped her act the part now. "Could you point me to any selection you have for Jamaican rum, and if possible something grapefruit flavored for cocktails?"

Prizes acquired, Liz then apparated to Diagon Alley and rented a whole hour for a private floo call at the Leaky Cauldron. But when she stuck her head into that fire, she didn't get an answer from Tonks.

But Remus Lupin was at her flat, and after taking one look at Liz's distraught expression, he had her come through.

"Dora is scheduled on duty for another half-hour," he said over his shoulder, leading her to the kitchen.

"Don't bother with the tea," Liz said, pulling the two new bottles from her bag. "I come bearing gifts, and I'm sure Tonks won't mind if we just have one without her."

"All right, Liz, mix the drinks and tell me what happened."

Her vision blurred, and she nearly fumbled the glass bottle of rum, but she had it secure and opened by the time Remus set two highballs on the counter in front of her, already iced. "Thanks. My mother died two days ago, and I have it on good authority she was murdered by a god."

He didn't say anything, and she didn't expect a quick reaction.

She didn't even look at him, just expertly poured from both bottles. Then she handed him one of the glasses and raised her own. "To the secrets that are better to have died with her."

He had been about to clink that glass, but he pulled back, staring wide-eyed as she took a long pull.

She exaggerated her sigh, "Ah, that's better."

He frowned. "Drinking doesn't really help. Trust me."

Liz rolled her eyes. "Forgive me for seeking a little numbness while I analyze myself for a minute." She took a much more dainty sip. "The man who loved her most declared me to be cold and secretive, but Uncle Ash was right. If I'm cold and secretive, it's because my mother made me that way, being that way herself. Now everyone is expecting me to be a wreck about losing my mummy, not least for the dramatic way it happened, and the thing is, I felt like I lost her two weeks ago, when I started to read her diary and realized how sick she was for so long. And those secrets I have uncovered so far... don't help me at all. They just make me feel sick myself. Way more sick than the  _ fleshy mess _ I witnessed. I've seen plenty of that as a healer."

"Nothing can faze you," Remus murmured, nearly quoting what she had said to him back at the Hogwarts infirmary, when she first got to know him as a person instead of a professor. Then he leaned back against the counter and took a little sip of his own drink. "But everyone has their share of secrets."

Stepping backward until she could lean against the pantry cupboard opposite to him, she nodded slowly and took a good look at him for the first time since she arrived. He was looking haggard, and tired, and she spared a thought for the current phase of the moon. Then she took another long sip. "I guess I'm trying to say that I've been grieving for longer than anyone realizes, and yes, that feels like just another secret, and yes that's more upsetting to me now than the fact that she's dead, and no I feel like I can't really tell that to anyone who actually knew her, and, really, I'm sorry for even bringing it up." She raised her glass again. "But thank you for listening. I probably needed to say all that out loud."

"It's better to share the pain than numb it," he replied, but touched his glass to hers anyway.

"I beg to differ." She smirked. "I know fourteen numbing agents, dozens of analgesics, eight sedatives, and the fact that alcohol serves as all three if you can handle the price the next day." She swirled the drink in her glass and frowned. "But I know what you mean, and I do feel better, getting that off my chest." Looking up, she tried to smile. "How are you? Recent transformation go all right?"

Remus gave her a smile in return, and it was nice to see how this changed his face, easing the lines and lighting his eyes. "I am blessed with access to a Potions Master capable of brewing Wolfsbane."

Liz snorted and waved her free hand in a dismissive gesture. "I knew that, and it doesn't answer my questions."

The smile grew wider, and he laughed out loud. "It was a rough couple of nights, actually, on a difficult mission that didn't go well. I just got here an hour before you did, and I'll be honest, Liz, you might be the healer, but I'm going to send you away before Tonks gets too drunk to make me feel better in the way only  _ she _ can."

Chuckling softly, Liz said, "Sounds good to me. Maybe I should see what I can do about finding that kind of comfort myself."

"With Severus Snape?"

Naturally, Remus and Tonks would have few, if any, secrets from each other. She should have anticipated that he would know anything she dared to utter to Tonks. But he said it so casually, Liz felt like she had to snap back fast. "If he'll have me. If he'll be even halfway honest with me."

In the silence that followed this statement, they both drank, but kept their eyes on each other.

As she considered what she really wanted most from Remus Lupin, Liz bit her lip, then asked, "Would you be willing to put up with him for a double date?"

Eyes wide, he replied, "Are you serious?"

"Very. I need to actually take him on a solo date, first, probably this weekend, so maybe next week?"

He took a few seconds to size her up. "What would we even do?"

"Unsure. We probably can't go out. I think I'm already being watched closely enough that it won't be long before far too many people know I'm here right now." She shuddered. "But if Tonks will host, we could have a nice night in. I'd like to play some music for all of you. Sing for you. I can be both entertainment and entertained. I've been itching to do another stage show, but a small private party will do."

Remus scratched his chin, stubbly from a couple days of growth. "You really wish to date your Professor?"

"Well it sounds weird when you say it like that." She shook her head. "I want to date Severus. I think he could really use a little fun and affection, and I want to give it, even if I only have another month to do so. I'm rather used to running out of time when it comes to things most important."

They held each others' gaze for almost a minute. Then Remus' expression turned from thoughtful to concerned. " _ Another _ month?"

Liz knocked back the rest of her drink in one gulp. It may have been a bit unladylike. Then she eyed the bottles and decided she should wait for Tonks. For now, she leaned back against the cupboard, holding the empty glass and glad for the fidget. "Do you remember when I asked about whether you had a friend to help you understand how you feel and what you must do?"

He nodded.

"I'll tell you about my last month or so, if you tell me about yours first."

He laughed again. "I think I'm starting to see why he likes you."

Liz flashed a brilliant smile.

Remus continued. "You are all grown up now, Liz, and you have been for some time. Actually, I have a vague recollection of a staff meeting, about two weeks into term, where Severus asked the rest of us to let him know if you did anything out of the ordinary. What happened that summer?"

So much had happened every summer, that she had to count backwards through the years and think about it. Ethiopia and Japan. Gods-damn it all, everything seemed to come back to that summer in some way. She neutralized the downward turn of her expression and said, "You don't want to know, but you might be right about connecting that summer to my growing up too fast. I'm not sure how I should feel that he noticed the change within a few weeks but never said a word to me about it."

Gently, quietly, he said, "I'm sorry to say that I didn't notice at all, being far too distracted with the prison break and connecting with Harry without putting him into more danger on my account."

Prison break. Right. Sirius Black. In all the insanity since the Triwizard Tournament, she had rather forgotten. "You were new anyway. If there was anything to notice, no one would have expected you to be the one to do so. Perhaps we can bring this back to the current summer." A smirk tugged at her lips. "How's the ache?"

A brief flash of confusion crossed his face, but then he smiled and replied, "Fine. Gone, actually. You were right. Thank you."

She nodded. "Happy to help. And it's the first part of my official mission now: relieve suffering, break curses, save lives..."

"And you can direct all three toward Severus. I'd say he's a lucky man, but that's definitely not true, since I'm sure he needs all three in the first place."

"Well, if I could find some time to sing without declaring too much and making him think I am trying to bewitch him..."' She trailed off and shrugged, a slight smirk at one corner of her lips.

He laughed once again. "All right, Liz, I have to admit I'm at least curious about what he would do with the four of us in Dora's living room. I'm in, if you'll set it up."

"Set what up?" came a voice from the door.

The way Remus' face lit up shone like the sun, and it made Liz's heart ache. He stepped toward his love and reached out, taking her by the hand and saying, "Welcome home. We were talking about a double date. Can we do it here?"

"Sure!" Then Tonks looked directly at Liz, her momentary delight failing. "Wait. Who's your date?"

"Guess," Liz insisted with a teasing smile, raising her glass for another sip.

Tonks pulled a face. "I dunno, mate. He taught me potions, too, and he's a right git to anyone who didn't wear green at Hogwarts."

Scowling, Liz was ready with a riddle she had been considering for a moment like this, when confronted by a friend with Severus' obvious bias toward Slytherin students. "Here's a question that might sound rhetorical, but is one hundred percent based in reality: What is worse, a teacher who treats everyone equally nasty except for his favorites, or a teacher who treats everyone equally well except for her least favorites?"

Tonks looked confused, but Remus knew what she meant. "McGonagall," he supplied. "She let us Gryffindors get away with attempted murder, literally, because the victim was Slytherin."

Liz frowned. She had only meant that McGonagall was just as biased as Severus, but... ignoring lethal violence? She would not have guessed. She hadn't seen it herself, but she did hear how McGonagall had defended Ferret Malfoy against the Imposter Moody, so maybe McGonagall had actually  _ mellowed _ since the seventies. Sighing heavily, Liz made to refill her drink. "I might need a stronger mix for this conversation."

Soon the three of them each had tall drinks, and Liz was invited to sit in a comfortable chair while Tonks slid up close to Remus on the sofa. There was a coffee table between them, but Liz had a pretty clear view of exactly where the couple touched.

Liz smiled indulgently, even as she felt the sting of jealousy for their easy display.

Remus gave an uncomfortable glance to the place where Tonks' hand rested on his thigh.

"You two are awfully cute together," Liz said brightly. "How did you meet?"

In unison, their eyes locked to each other, but then Remus slightly raised one shoulder, and Tonks nodded.

Remus cleared his throat and said, "I've known Dora since she was very young, having served in the Order of the Phoenix with her parents. But I was on a long hiatus when she came of age."

"We reconnected after Sirius died." Tonks turned to look at Remus as she spoke. "Your friend. My kin. Convicted murderer, maybe, but I am grateful for how Professor Dumbledore sent you to my folks to explain, and how you were so kind to me even through your own grief."

Through all this, Liz had drained most of her beverage. Now she fiddled with her glass and said, "That's important. Being there for each other when things are difficult."

Refusing to look, staring at her glass, she heard Remus say, "Liz, your mum died. Maybe you felt that loss some time ago, but that doesn't necessarily make it easier. I thought I had lost my friend Sirius decades ago, but there was still something so final about his actual death, and I am glad Dora and I could work on those feelings together. So, why did you come to us instead of Severus?"

She shrugged. "I came to get sloshed with my friend. Even if I wanted to see him right now, I don't think Severus drinks. He prefers to be clear-headed, since the Headmaster's timing is all over the map."

"Hmm."

This murmur finally brought Liz's head up, and she saw two kinds of concern directed her way. She shrugged and added, "He has assured me that he was merely in business with my mother, but I have to admit I don't want to hear about it if he misses her for more than that role. I know she was beautiful, and she had no problem cheating on my daddy, and there just isn't enough rum in Jamaica to numb the reaction I would have if I have to listen to that velvet voice of the gods speak sweetly of  _ her _ ."

Tonks made a little gagging sound and asked, "Velvet voice of the gods?"

Liz shrugged again, a tiny little smirk gracing her lips, and Remus laughed. "There is something about his voice, isn't there?"

Draining her drink, Tonks stood and held a hand out for Liz's glass. "Not enough rum in my kitchen to make me want to hear this, but I'll get refills."

A minute later, Liz had a full glass to raise again. "Good company."

They echoed her, and she took a long pull, closing her eyes and reveling in the acidic alcohol burn.

She heard Tonks say, "Liz, mate, I'm glad you came for company instead of drowning alone."

Remus said, "But I'm going to call him now, and he should take you home."

Her eyes snapped open and sent a pleading glance to Remus.

"I need some time with Dora."

Liz looked to her friend next, but Tonks shrugged.

Then Liz stood. "Right, sorry. You even told me you would send me away. You don't have to find him. I'll go quietly." She tipped back the rest of her glass, and offered a grin that probably didn't reach her eyes. "Enjoy the rum."

\------------------------------

Three stiff cocktails in two hours gave Liz a pleasant buzz and a full bladder. She went straight to the loo when she got to the Blumwands, and she spent several minutes with the mirror there, considering the dark circles under her eyes, and how all she really wanted to do was go back to that mountain and work more Air-Sun tandem magic with a powerful wizard.

Then she heard shouting downstairs.

Opening the door carefully, she was disappointed but unsurprised to hear the normally smooth voice of her lover hoarsely berating her adoptive family, probably down in the living room. She sighed and stepped stealthily down toward the ruckus.

She didn't quite catch the actual words, so she lurked closer as she heard Thomas respond, "She's an adult, Severus, and she's our Priestess. She may come and go as she pleases."

"Don't be daft, Blumwand! She is vulnerable, and she should not be alone, and you know it! She was in Schwarz's office first thing this morning, and then she never clocked in at Healer's Care Haven. Where is she?"

Liz stepped down from the staircase and into the room, and Thomas spotted her first, bowing his head. Marlena was there, too, and opened her mouth to speak, but Liz held up her hand and directed her gaze to Severus, who turned around slowly and glared.

She sighed. "Can we enchant the floo lock to log the times and destinations as I go through it?"

"You don't have to do that," said Thomas. "The Residence is not a prison."

Not taking her eyes off Severus, she said, "I know. But if it eases the mind of the man whose duty is my protection, then this is reasonable to me."

Severus ducked his head. "Thank you, Priestess."

"Don't thank me yet. I have one condition."

"How may I serve?"

She gave each person in the room a searching look, but she did not find what she was looking for. Whatever. Full steam ahead. "I am disappointed that you would be cruel to the people who are most likely to help you when it comes to ensuring my safety. I believe you owe the Head of my Household an apology, but I would speak with you privately first, so I may test the sincerity of it while maintaining your dignity."

She could see Severus grinding his teeth, but Thomas stepped forward. "I approve this course. Go on upstairs and cool down."

Liz smiled sweetly at Thomas as Severus brushed past her and led the way.

He paced the short length of her room as she applied basic privacy charms. Fuming, Severus came up to her, toe to toe, the moment her  _ muffliato _ wove over the rest. "You stupid girl! You're going to get yourself killed disappearing like that!"

The subtle shift of perception, from the lingering drink, amplified the way this raised her hackles. " _ I'm _ stupid? You didn't even check with the last girl friend you know I confided in!"

He took a big step backward with wide eyes. "Her flat is not secured. Do not go there again."

Liz scoffed. "Assuming that's true, which I  _ don't _ since she's an Auror, for Merlin's sake, I think what you meant to say was,  _ Her flat is not secured. Allow me to secure it before you go back. _ "

"No!"

She stepped forward, though her stride was not as long as his, so she also leaned forward with her own glare.

He inhaled deeply, and tried to shout again, "You can't -- !"

"My champion," she interrupted, "did I scare you?"

That shut him up.

"I'm sorry. I know you have at least been roughly keeping tabs on my whereabouts, even before accepting the formal duty to do so. I am not trying to give you the slip, so I will keep a faithful record of the floo here at the Residence. We can even ask the rest of the family if they will consent to going on record, too. And we can talk over other details you want, or other means of traveling I might use. But I don't think it's all that urgent, and I hate asking more of you. I should be finding ways to ask for less, to lighten your load."

She sighed and side-stepped so that she could perch on the edge of the bed.

"I see nothing about the way you protect me that has to change, but after what happened to Sila, I can imagine you would be very worried about me, in addition to being upset that she's dead."

"Aren't you? She was your mother."

She looked away, as if to check where she was planting her palms to lean back.

"Persephone?"

She shook her head. "I wish I knew what to tell you, Severus. It was weird, I think, to clean out the house while she was still alive, and in her bedroom I found that diary, and when I finally read it, I think that's the day she was really dead to me."

When she dared to look at him, she wished she hadn't. He was still standing just a few paces away, but his eyes were wide in fear, and his chest was heaving, and she wondered if he was having some kind of panic attack. He sucked in a great breath that sounded like a painful gasp, but he held it for a count of five and relaxed.

Liz was impressed at his control, even if he had lost it for a second there. She shrugged and looked away again. "I keep changing my mind about whether or not you should read it. I am afraid it will scare you off."

He scowled, and she wondered if he might have sneered if he wasn't still a little shaken. "I've held much darker artifacts from much more frightening witches and wizards."

"Fine," she said, springing to her feet and digging in the vanity drawer for the offending notebook. "But I'd recommend having a barf bucket nearby when you get around to the first week or so of 1991, and I want you to think really carefully about who she might mean by Hades."

Holding it up, she gave her most serious look, but his scowl had turned thoughtful, and he asked, "Hades? As in, god of the underworld? Married to Persephone?"

Liz nodded and dropped her arm, sending the diary out of their line of sight and giving Severus a meaningful look. "Persephone, the daughter of Demeter, who could only be with her one season of the year. The rest of the time, Persephone was stuck in the domain of Hades."

"I see," he said simply, and she had no doubt that he did.

She wasn't ready to mention that the Dark Lord found the Greek gods significant to her situation, too, and she did have something else to resolve before they went adventuring in her mother's insanity. "Severus, my champion, please take care of what you need to say to Thomas, while I make a copy. The original diary does not leave my room, but I don't want to spend the entire night watching you read this. It took me three days to muster the courage to finish it front-to-back."

After a beat, Severus wondered out loud, "You don't wish to test the sincerity of my apology?"

"I don't have to," she said. "You will either be sincere about fixing what you broke, or it will stay broken and cause us more problems. I know you will make the right choice."

This time he was the one who looked away. "What exactly do you think I broke?"

"None of my champions are daft. You are all quite brilliant, actually, and you, my love, should know better than to take out your frustrations on an ally. Come in here and call me a stupid girl all you want, but do  _ not _ attack my friends, my family, my Sister, or any of my champions. When you hurt them, you hurt me. And you may outrank them, but you need them to trust you for that to mean anything. You need them to be ready and willing to obey when it counts, as if I had given the say-so myself. Do you think Thomas will take orders as easily after this, if you don't fix it as soon as possible?"

"I will fix it." Without waiting for her to respond, he was out the door.

She got straight to work charming a copy of the entire diary. It had occurred to her just now that the charm known as  _ True Duplication _ could cut through minor hexes applied to documents. Liz folded a blank parchment to the size of the diary and cast, " _ Veritas Effingo! _ "

The blank parchment began to fill, not just with ink but extra pages inside the fold. It even sprouted the color-coded ribbons she used as bookmarks for the illegible passages and references to Greek myth.

The illegible bits were still illegible. Even so, it hadn't hurt to try.

Liz laid the original and the copy next to each other on the vanity, and then she went to the closet to change into her nightwear. She had just asked the music box for an instrumental playlist when Severus returned and slipped through the wards without triggering her alarm.

He stopped just inside, and she stepped over to stand in front of him, not too close, not threatening at all. But she did ask, "How did it go?"

"Thomas and Marlena are too kind. He and I will review the security protocols in the morning. She will send Lippy with our supper in one hour."

"So, do we spend an hour on the diary or an hour on soothing your woes?"

His eyes narrowed, but he took one step to further close the gap between them, and then he raised one hand to cup her cheek. "You are safe. I should be pleased."

"But I was careless, and that you cannot stand." She shrugged, taking another tiny step into his personal space and reaching for the clasp of his outer robe. "And you have plenty of other woes besides. I can feel it, you know, when we touch. You get my  _ white light _ , and I get that aura of  _ tortured soul _ that makes me want to rub my body all over yours and make it all better."

Clasp undone, he took both of her hands in his before she could take the robe off completely. "Have you been drinking?"

Liz pressed her lips together. They were close enough he could probably smell it on her breath.

He took a step back and gave her his favorite dealing-with-dunderheads glare from the classroom.

She put her nose in the air and said smoothly, "I held off two days, waiting to feel like I could cry for her. But no tears came, and everyone seemed to miss her more than I did, and when I couldn't take it anymore I went to my friends who did  _ not _ know Siladora Avery, and I took a bottle of rum with me."

"And you didn't tell anyone."

She sighed and backed up until she could sit on the bed again. "And if I had another chance, I still wouldn't. But I would use the floo here so that you could track me down if truly necessary."

He was glaring, but she heard something oddly soft in his voice when he said, "You are a shockingly functional drunk."

"I'm not drunk. I didn't get drunk. But don't get me wrong, I wanted to, and then Remus sent me away before I could get more than a little buzzed." She smiled. "And he was rather kind about it. It's nice to have friends looking out for me without judging me. I miss Riley, but his righteous indignation about drugs and alcohol can get stuffed."

Severus was still standing and glaring, but he wasn't stupid. He would understand the threat she was making.

After waiting nearly a full minute and thinking hard, Liz could feel her attention fading. Were they fighting about her drinking? No, it was how she disappeared. And it wasn't really that either; that was just his excuse to be upset with everyone. "Do you need to talk about  _ her _ , as you knew her, before we can get on with the unpleasant revelations of her madness?"

"No."

"It's all right if you do. You probably knew her much better than I did."

He came over to sit next to her, not touching, but hardly a handspan between them. "If you are feeling like you did not know her, then no one really did. Not even Trace."

Liz frowned.

Severus explained, "Marlena sent word when he did not show up for work today, and I tracked him down at his home. He was a wreck, and he was worried that he would only fight with you again if he tried to apologize. He would not admit exactly what he said to you."

"Not that you're our messenger, but feel free to tell him that he's forgiven, if you see him before I do. He wasn't wrong, even if the timing was bad."

"He swore he would be in to work next week. Do not give him another thought."

Smiling, Liz turned her body to face him properly, and she reached out to take his hands in hers. "Severus, did you spend all day looking for Trace, and then me?"

The lines of his face were flat but tense as he nodded.

"I'm sorry. I know you are too busy for those kinds of errands, and both are entirely my fault."

The nod turned, and his head was shaking now. "Not entirely, though perhaps you would make it up to me."

Grinning, she gave his hand a squeeze and praised him, "You serve exceptionally well, even when I'm making things difficult. I will provide any desire you dare to name."

His eyes narrowed but his lip curled up as he considered his response. She smirked right back at him, daring him to ask for something big. Then he said, "Hold me."

"That's all?"

"That's  _ everything _ . I tried to explain, weeks ago, about the way it feels. I want your skin against mine. I want to be wrapped up in your arms and legs, not for the desire of sex, but for taking an entirely different kind of comfort. I want to rest my face on your breasts, not because it's titillating -- though it certainly is -- but because the rhythm of your heart and breath soothe my own."

Liz didn't know what to say, but she knew what she should do. She was his Priestess. She would provide. So she reached for the closures of his garments and started again to undress him, slowly, taking extra time to brush her fingers across each new patch of skin as it was revealed.

He allowed her to do this without complaint, until she slid the shirt off his shoulders, and he recoiled when she slid her hands down his arms.

"Problem?"

"No," he said promptly, then scowled as he drew his wand and cast a complicated pattern over the Dark Mark. Liz leaned back, impressed, as it faded from view, and she considered that the pattern looked a bit like a shield ward, and very similar to something she used herself. Then he gently laid his wand on her bedside table, looked her square in the eyes, and said, "Not anymore."

She shrugged. "You don't have to hide it."

"I have some doubts on the wisdom of your touching it, after what happened last weekend."

Liz needed a second to think about what he meant. Probably her direct contact with the Dark Lord in the throne room. "Gods, was that only last weekend?" She tried to say it casually, and she followed up with, "After yesterday, I am less concerned."

He reached for his fly while he said, "You really fixed the annoying hiss in his speech. He called the Inner Circle during the wee hours last night and was in as cheery a mood as I've ever seen him. It's amazing."

"It was a team effort," she insisted, now working on the removal of her own clothing. "But, yes, it was amazing. He makes me feel like there's nothing I can't do."

While they stepped out of their garments, Severus shook his head but said, "That sounds about right. Some wizards follow him for the pureblood politics, some for the chance to inflict cruelty, and some for that taste of raw magical power. But remember, Persephone, he doesn't care about you, only himself. Only his own power. You wouldn't be the first he's allowed to tap that power only to gain your cooperation toward his own ends."

Liz frowned as she peeled off her bra. "But if he would just --"

"He doesn't," Severus interrupted, obviously seeing where she was going with this. "And he won't. Not for you or anyone. And the closer you get to him, the more likely you will become the Queen of the Darkness." He grimaced. "Or a corpse."

She looked at herself, standing there in just her blue boy-cut knickers. She was pretty sure she preferred this existence as a living human being. Pretty sure. All right, maybe curious about becoming a goddess, and she had more than one mentor now who believed in gods. Giving herself a mental shake, she put on a leer and asked, "Is this fine, or should I put the girls away in a skimpy top?"

His eyes raked down and then back up, lingering only a second on her free breasts. When his eyes finally met hers again, they had her answer.

Both of them down to underpants, Liz nestled into the bed, leaning into the pillows against the wall, and she held out both arms. "Come here, love, and I'll hold you as long as you like."

Severus didn't have to be told twice. He quickly arranged himself, head on her chest, arms around her middle, and one knee wound loosely through her long legs.

She flicked her wand to draw up the blankets before abandoning it and her glasses next to his on the table. Then she smoothed his hair, tucking it behind his ears, and draped her arms around his shoulders, wrapping her top leg possessively over his bum. He had been trying to keep some distance between his pelvis and hers, but she used the leverage of this leg to tug him closer, and she smiled to herself at the partial erection laying heavy between them.

"I don't --"

"I know," she cut him off gently. "It's all right to be turned on and not actually follow through. I'm not trying to seduce you, Severus." She smirked, even though he couldn't see it on her face from this angle. "Although, the Dark Lord seems to think we should get on with it, and after what I did for him yesterday, I doubt he would be trying to harm us this way."

She sighed, and her mind wandered for a minute, and then she chuckled, and he tensed.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I was just thinking of how many nights I've tossed and turned in my bed at Hogwarts, and how weird it's going to be, so aware that your bed is just two corridors down from mine."

He mumbled something against her skin, unintelligible through her soft flesh, before pulling back slightly to look up at her. "School time presents a whole new set of problems, and I don't want to think about them just yet."

"That's fine," she cooed, stroking his hair until he rested against her again. "Anything else you'd like to talk about, or should I just shut up and relax?"

He squeezed her tightly and then sighed. He sounded as content as she had ever heard from him. Music to her audiophile ears.

They slept through dinner. Liz woke a bit before dawn, and both Severus and his copy of the diary were gone.


	24. Chapter 24

#  P1Ch24 Playlist

  * Title track: "Tough Love" by Kiss 1992
  * _it was melodic and soulful as well as informative_
  * _bands she'd met: The Weird Sisters and the Warlocks of Wonderland_
  * _a rock soundtrack playing in the background_
  * "One Hot Minute" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers 1995
  * "Pinball Wizard" by The Who 1969
  * "Baba O' Riley" by The Who 1971
  * _a thumping beat too loud for talking_  




#  Chapter 24: We Love To Do The Things That Others Fantasize

When she came down for breakfast, Liz had post.

First up, Tonks had sent her an idea for a double-date night. The envelope was blue and wrapped like a howler, but when it opened up, dropped a separate letter, and projected her voice, it was melodic and soulful as well as informative:

_ I think we should do a show!  
_ _ Remus said you miss the stage.  
_ _ Their minds, no doubt, we will blow,  
_ _ With melodies sweet and sage. _

Liz wasted no time perusing the accompanying letter for tricks on how to do a song-note herself, but it came up short, and she added it to a growing list of conversation-starters to use during the upcoming double-date.

For now, she penned a hasty reply that began with  _ Holy shit, girl, you can sing! _ and then suggested a few dozen tracks they could perform in Tonks's living room, either with Liz's music box or a gig case full of guitar gear.

She also had a handful of condolence cards, and she hardly recognized these people who had known her parents. Probably a boatload of patrons from the Raven Witch. She didn't bother to open them. Two of them were from bands she'd met: The Weird Sisters and the Warlocks of Wonderland, but they were rather generic sympathy cards that didn't cheer her up quite like she hoped. The signed posters enclosed with those cards were much nicer, and she would probably hang them in her room with a few others she had collected over the years.

The last letter was a request from George Weasley to attend supper at the Burrow for the unveiling of Wheezes Wait-What-Was-That? Soundboards.

Liz carefully scooped her oatmeal in silence, while the Blumwands all gushed over the animated posters of the bands rocking out on stages, and she considered what she should do. It was Saturday. She didn't have to go to the office. There was plenty of work she could do anyway, but maybe she should spend a little more time with Julia. She was hoping to see Severus tonight, and she failed to get any kind of commitment to a plan, so supper elsewhere seemed like a bad idea.

And George had said that  _ everyone _ was at the Burrow, including Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. In another life, maybe she could have been friendly with a brainiac like Hermione. But now? If they knew half of what happened to her in the last month she'd probably wind up arrested. By Tonks.

Nope. She penned a short reply with a regretful raincheck and some generic congratulation of their invention derived of her patent. Marlena helped her clean it up to sound less awkward.

In the meantime, Liz was ready to play. She and Julia spent the morning indulging in each other's art, both painting and music, a rock soundtrack playing in the background as Liz learned new parts to her new favorites, and Julia practiced with traditional oils. Liz tried her hand at the brush, and made a right mess on her canvas. Julia sang along to a few tunes, off-pitch but belting out some serious feelings.

And Julia drank it in while Liz sang along to  _ One Hot Minute _ , both of them swinging their hips to the epic outro.

_ From "One Hot Minute" by the Red Hot Chili Peppers _

_ Cover your eyes and click your heels  
_ _ Can you believe how good it feels?  
_ _ Am I all alone? _

_ One hot minute and I mean it, come and get it  
_ _ One hot minute and I mean it, come and get it  
_ _ One hot minute and I mean it, come and get it  
_ _ If I chase it I might waste it, come and spit it  
_ _ Am I all alone? Am I all alone? _

_ Sitting in the fire!  
_ _ I get along and have some fun  
_ _ Floating to be higher!  
_ _ Oh, maybe I'm your special one  
_ _ Silent testifier!  
_ _ Breathe the moon and eat the sun  
_ _ Sitting in the fire! _

_ Say goodbye to where you buy you got it now  
_ _ Pay your father, pay your twenty, take a bow  
_ _ Say goodbye to where you buy you got it now  
_ _ Pay your mama, pay your father take a bow  
_ _ Say goodbye to where you buy you got it now  
_ _ Pay your father, pay your twenty, take a bow _

_ Three pounds of love inside my skull  
_ _ A million more lies, it's never dull  
_ _ Just a few times spun, spun around the sun  
_ _ A couple more or less, and then we're done _

_ Sitting in the fire!  
_ _ I get along and have some fun  
_ _ Floating to be higher!  
_ _ Oh, maybe I'm your special one  
_ _ Silent testifier!  
_ _ Breathe the moon and eat the sun  
_ __ Sitting in the fire!

Thomas watched them, having come up to announce lunch, and he stood in the doorway with an indulgent smile.

At lunch, Julia chatted happily for the both of them, while she sat in contentment at the domestic scene at the family table. And afterward, they played outside. Liz revelled in the Fresh Air, and she managed to work on an idea to leverage the magic of the Air itself while she had Julia providing cushioning charms just in case.

After dinner, Liz asked to be alone. She had just spent the whole day with her new family, and now she wanted to clear her mind and accept some feelings from the last few days. The music throughout the day had helped ground Liz to the reality of her situation, and she felt a mild disgust at herself for how she had reacted to her mother's death. She had swung between, on one hand, seeking alcoholic numbness, hoping to feel nothing, and, on the other hand, seeking the approval of the Dark Lord, hoping to feel the immense power of magic with no room for anything else.

Yikes. She wished she had turned to music sooner. Today, with a soundtrack properly backing it, she had worked on the little things in life. A family, good food, and with a little luck, maybe Severus would agree to go on a proper date yet tonight.

So now, she stretched her standard yoga routine and then eyed the pin oak hungrily, ready to do a whole set of inversions against the sturdy trunk. Then she climbed up and meditated. Then she came down to find a place to rest peacefully.

It was a little after nine when Severus arrived, and the sky was dark, but Liz was still outside enjoying the warm evening breeze. She had planted herself in the rosebed, after Marlena had brought out her teardrop cloak, mended from the burn the other day, so Liz had it providing a barrier between herself and the woodchip mulch. She gazed through branches at the twinkling stars and the waning quarter moon, listening to the rustling leaves of oak and elm.

"Well isn't this just the perfect symbol of my efforts with you."

Based on his normal sneer volume, as well as the way the breeze jumbled the harmonies of his low voice, Liz guessed he was in or near Thomas's favorite chair, though she did not know how long he had been. She called out, "Stargazing in the great outdoors?"

He snorted, and then she heard his voice grow louder and clearer as he approached. "A thorny trap, at best, but so beautiful I have to try, for the reward is great, and you'll heal the scratches."

Rather pleased with this assessment, Liz drew her wand to give the branches some gentle nudging, until it was safe for her to rise up and step over to where Severus waited at the edge of the garden. She smirked and said, "A little planning would be better, so you don't require my skills as a healer. Though I am strangely gratified to know you would fight a rosebush over me."

Severus glared.

She gave him a pleading look. "I want to have a date tonight, rather than a briefing. Tell me we can wait on any obligations."

His glare softened as he took her by the hand and said smoothly, "We can wait on any obligations."

Now Liz snorted, but she held on to him tightly. "Hmmph, I may have asked for it, but that's a big fat lie, isn't it? Anyway, I do want to take you somewhere before we have more hard talks and difficult assignments. Are you in for a quick adventure?"

"Persephone," he said slowly, wrapping his arms around her and murmuring in her ear. "Since it is my first real date, nothing else matters until it is properly finished."

First date? Goodness. Thirty-some years old and never had a proper date. That certainly explained a few things. She felt a bit silly, actually, at how quickly she had pushed them into emotional and physical closeness over the past month. And now here he was, ready to shrug off all responsibility just because she invited him on a mystery adventure.

Oh, but she was not about to let this chance get away!

She grinned and pulled him toward the house by the hand. "We should do this right from the very top. Do Thomas and Marlena know you're here?"

"Thomas was in the family room. Before I could say a word, he simply pointed at the back door."

They stepped back through it, and Thomas was still there. She let go of the hand she held to wring her own before she said, "Severus and I are going out. Best not wait up."

"Hold on a minute, Lizzy," he replied, hastily folding his copy of the  _ Prophet _ . "Where are you going?"

"It's a beautiful night," she explained with a broad, dramatic gesture of her arms, "And there's a park just down the road."

Thomas scratched his chin. "I know the one. But, playing at the park doesn't take all night. Where else?"

Liz and Severus stood awkwardly for the interrogation, and yet Liz was oddly delighted by the thoroughness of Thomas' role play as father. She waggled her eyebrows. "Well that depends on whether the park is too private or too public."

"Mind your cheek, young lady," he said with a scolding tone and narrowed eyes.

She fought not to giggle, and Severus cleared his throat to say. "I will ensure we return by midnight."

Both of them turned their full attention to Severus, and Liz nearly lost it at the way he shrank back a step. She had to clamp a hand over her mouth to keep the giggles under control.

Thomas was looking much less stern when he said, "And you always keep your word. Have fun, kids." Then he picked up his paper and hid behind it.

Liz laughed all the way out the front door.

As they strolled down the block, Liz reached out to hold his hand but sniffed in mock hurt. "I get  _ mind your cheek _ , while you get  _ have fun kids _ . So unfair."

"You wanted a free pass for the night. It was easy enough to set a time."

She couldn't help it, and she dissolved into giggles again. When they finally passed, she cleared her throat, and they turned a corner. Quietly, she said, "I suspect we both missed this part of having a father who cares. Thomas is a saint, putting up with me."

"He was verifying your safety."

Of course he was. Severus was taking this way too seriously. Liz smiled, but they were both looking ahead as they approached the playground. "And I think he is learning to like you, too, Severus. He was quick on the uptake, just now. I didn't really have to announce that we were leaving, so he took in my merry countenance and played along with my favorite game. It's called  _ Normal Teenager _ ."

Severus stopped in his tracks, just before the sidewalk turned inside the perimeter of the park. "Your safety is not a game, and you are anything but normal. The first duty of Lead Champion is protecting my Priestess. Thomas is my deputy in this task, and Werner ties up loose ends."

Ah, perhaps he simply thought she wasn't taking it seriously enough. She pulled on his hand to get him moving again, drawing him over to the swings. She examined them as she said, "You are right, of course." She gave him a quick wink as she said, "You usually are." But then she adopted a more serious tone. "I understand that in traditional covens, a young Priestess would usually have her father serve as Lead Champion until a stronger man proved his worth from the lower ranks. We may have skipped a few steps, but you prove worthy time and again, so I think we are doing all right."

Then she let go of his hand to select one of the low-hanging swings to adjust for his long legs. Lifting it by the seat, she drew back and threw it hard, sending it over the top pole and discreetly flicking her wand to shorten the chain properly instead of wrapping it.

"For you, my champion" she gestured for him to take it, and then sat on the swing next to his. Then she cleared her throat and adopted a formal tone. "As the High Priestess of Air, there is something I want to try while I've got you close by to see it."

It didn't take her long to pump her legs and raise her height, breathing deeply in on the backswing, out on the forward-swing, and drawing up magical currents of raw Air around her feet.

The swing next to her was hardly moving at all. She assumed he was watching her, but she needed to concentrate. Turning out her elbows, Liz adjusted her posture to prepare for the jump. And then she slipped off the narrow strip of rubberized plastic, throwing her arms in the air and shouting "Wheeeee!"

"Persephone!"

And then she was hanging from her ankle, her head snapping back the opposite way she intended and her tunic bunching up around her bust. "Ouch," she said, more to herself than to him, rubbing her neck and trying to clear her swimming vision from the head rush of being upside down.

"Are you insane?" Severus was underneath her now, lining her up just so before sheathing his wand, which dropped her into his arms.

She draped hers around his neck and gazed at him with barely suppressed mirth. "Mad as a hatter, for sure, but what spell was that? I've never seen it before."

He gently lowered her feet to the ground, checking that she was stable in her upright position, and not actually answering.

Rubbing her neck again, she chuckled. "The whiplash was a bit unnecessary, but I think that was a nice little Air Jinx. Teach me?"

"You first. What were you trying to do?"

She shrugged. "Ask the Air to cushion the landing."

He raised one eyebrow.

"Sure, it sounds barmy, but I feel it, and I trust the Air, and it's fine. I have already jumped out of the pin oak at the Residence, with Julia's brilliant cushioning charm for backup." She smiled softly with the affectionate feeling she was about to express. "She is going to make a fine Sister of Air someday. But I am sorry I am not ready to teach this magic. I barely understand it myself. It might be something only a person with a core element of Air can hope to master." She narrowed her eyes. "And you may be Fire, love, but that was a jinx I should have in my Air arsenal."

He gave her a measured look, and then he said, "As soon as possible, sign up for the Slytherin House dueling club. I will teach it during a fall term training session."

Liz scowled. "Dueling club? No thanks. I can clean up the mess afterward, but I can't actually do that if I make the mess in the first place. That's why this jinx is so perfect."

Now Severus was scowling, too. "Point and shoot. Preferably nonverbal, but the spell is  _ levicorpus _ ."

"Easy enough, then. And, I must insist, all levitation spells are within my domain to practice and protect. Thank you for teaching me a new one." She leaned in and pecked him on the lips. "You serve so well. What is my champion's desire?"

He captured her lips for a second kiss, much more sensual. Tonight he tasted like spiced latte, without the chocolate hints of mocha. She ran her tongue over his crooked teeth, sparing half a thought for their color as a result of coffee stains, even as she moaned at his flavor. Delicious. Then he pulled back and said, "I understand why you might think this place is fun and romantic, and it may be a magical neighborhood, but it's far too exposed for your experimental magic. I would have us find another activity for our date."

"Hmm," she bit her lip as if to think, but she had some ideas in mind as soon as Thomas had asked about a second location. "Would you prefer a closed room, limited exits, perhaps a business with a proprietor whose bottom line depends on the safety of his patrons?"

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded.

"The place I'm thinking is muggle, but I could be recognized. Daddy would take me there when he wanted to play darts, and I went there myself to play when I needed a break from practicing my stage show last month."

Severus drew his wand and pointed it at her face. Liz checked her flinch before it could reach her face and simply raised an eyebrow. She must not have been fast enough to cover her reaction, for he grimaced and turned the wand on himself, casting a handful of glamours. The color of his skin pinked, his hair cropped short, and his eyes turned more grey than black.

Liz's jaw dropped, and she squirmed a bit, rubbing her thighs together. She couldn't help but raise her hand to run it through that hair, now the perfect length for a finger-combing.

He was smirking as he gently nudged the tip of his wand under her chin to close her mouth. "Your turn."

She was speechless, eyes wide as she took in the sight of him, but she managed to nod.

As he cast, she felt her hair sweep up, her lips pucker, and the unmistakable application of makeup powder.

Higher brain functions returning, she conjured a mirror to take a look. He was good. She couldn't cast glamours half this good, even after studying her mother's notes. Hers were pretty much all visual, except for what he taught her about her hair, but his seemed to actually alter her body and conjure real makeup. Her hair was not only up in a messy bun, but the color was a dark brown instead of black, though it required a double-take to see the difference in the dark. The makeup was subtle enough for her taste, but a different, darker palette than her usual natural tones. And her lips indeed looked fuller, and dark pink. Utterly kissable.

Severus must have thought the same, for he vanished the mirror and wrapped his arms around her before snogging her thoroughly.

"Wow," she whispered, when they came up for air. "Severus, did you learn this because it's useful for espionage?"

He smiled warmly. This expression was so rare, and oh how she loved it, even on his glamour-altered face. He even playfully tapped her nose as he said, "On the nose, Persephone. Clothes next, though I believe you are more familiar with fabric transfiguration and fashion."

She returned his smile and looked down at herself. Her tight tunic and leggings were fine, but she glamour-camouflaged all of her tattoos while Severus removed his robe. She took a minute to simply look at him again. "Your trousers and shirt are fine where we're going. But maybe..." She waved her wand over the robe and it transformed to a thin black jacket. "Yes, that will do. Try it on, please."

The fit was almost right, and she dragged the tip of her wand down the seams to improve it a little more for his thin frame. When she was satisfied, she gave him her best brilliant smile.

He asked, "Where are we going, exactly?"

"Ah, it's called the Galaxy, and they're known for their array of billiards games, but they also have darts. Unfortunately there is only one good place to apparate, and it's between dumpsters in the back alley. More unfortunately, I am not exactly skilled at side-along."

His hand came up to her chin as he gazed into her eyes. "Show me."

She turned inward to find her most recent memory of the place, at the end of a night when she stood just outside with the smokers before making her excuses and rounding the corner to apparate home. Severus only needed to review the memory bubble once before he withdrew from her mind, pulled her close, and took them exactly where she showed him.

The alley was dark and deserted, but rather offensive to the olfactory. She pulled him by the hand to get away quickly, and soon they were sitting at the bar of the Galaxy, her with a gin drink and him with sparkling water, both of them watching the players occupying all four of the dart boards.

She leaned close to him, bracing her hand on his thigh to stay on the barstool, and she murmured. "Saturday night. I should have figured it would be too busy."

"No matter," he replied, without taking his eyes off the scene. "I am learning. But I think they are playing two different games."

Liz smiled as she watched the way he drank it in, actual drink forgotten on the bar. Her brilliant Severus, learning something new. "Shall I explain?"

He still didn't look away. "Yes."

For the next quarter hour, Liz sipped her drink and described the nuances of the game mechanics, physical skills, and tournament rules. The jukebox played classic rock tunes in the background. She had run out of drink and was softly singing along to The Who's  _ Pinball Wizard _ when Severus slipped down and took her by the hand.

She had been distracted by the pinball-bumper beat, tapping it out on her thighs and rocking her heel on the barstool for the kick, but Severus had been paying such close attention to the dart boards that he recognized before she did the signs of another couple finishing their game and drinks at the same time. When they abandoned their board to go to the bar, Severus was only one beat away from taking their spot. But someone else was suddenly toe-to-toe with him, saying, "We were next."

It would have been funny if it wasn't so frightening. The other man was more muscular, but Severus had an inch on his height, and both had expressions sour enough to curdle milk. Two tall, dark, strong men glaring at each other, their girlfriends a step behind each of them. Liz slid her eyes to the pretty blonde, and they shared a knowing look. "Come on, love," she said, taking Severus by the hand. "Let them have it."

He was still staring down the other man when he replied, "You wanted a game here. You should have it."

"Maybe," said the blonde, putting a hand on her man's shoulder, "We could play couples, and the winning team gets to stay."

Liz smiled. This is why she liked her bar-fly companions. So she suggested, "And the losing team buys a round."

This had an immediate calming effect on the other man, who broke away from the glaring contest first to assess the level of the drink in his pint glass.

Hooked them. Liz held out her hand to the blonde and said, "I'm Fenny. Nice to meet you."

"Sally."

Then they turned toward their men and gave them identical pointed looks.

Both looked suitably sheepish, and Liz saw Severus get it together first, holding out his own hand and saying, "Toby."

"Billy."

"Oi!" another patron said loudly. "You lot playing or not?"

All four of them turned to glare, and the interloper scurried away.

Liz pulled a few coins from her bag and pressed them into Severus' hand. "You boys pick the game. Sally and I will inspect the darts."

They did as told, and Liz shook her head as she and Sally found bent tips, squished flights, and other damage. "Ugh," Liz groaned, disassembling a few to cannibalize the good parts, "Pub darts are always rubbish. I should really get my own."

Finally satisfied with the game settings and freshly inspected darts, Billy went first. Then Severus, who was shockingly accurate for his first game. Maybe a little  _ too _ accurate. Sally threw next, then Liz, and as she returned to Severus' side, she leaned in close and hissed in his ear, "You better not be cheating with magic."

He held a hand over his heart in mock protest. "You wound me, my lady." Then he leered and murmured directly in her ear. "Of course I'm cheating."

Liz glared, but then it was Severus' turn again, and while he stepped up to the line, she pulled Sally aside. "The crowd tonight seems to like The Who. Do you mind if I spin up  _ Baba O' Riley _ on the jukebox? Been hearing it in my head since you told me your name."

After Sally agreed, Liz popped over to plug the music machine, choosing that song and a few others. By the time she returned, Severus was tapping his foot impatiently while Billy got a little handsy with Sally.

"Sorry," she said brightly, and then wiggled her hips to the beat, which may have affected her game. She was off by a wedge, maybe a little  _ too _ consistently.

After a few rounds of play, Sally gave her a funny look and threw the winning dart.

The ladies shook hands, Liz saying "Good game, Sally."

But Sally replied, "Not really, Fenny. There's something off about the way you two play." She didn't let go of Liz's hand, but pulled her close and said quietly, so Liz had to strain to hear. "You threw the game."

Liz shrugged and grinned. "I just wanted to get Toby back home before he picks a fight. And I'll pre-pay your next round with the bartender."

"All right, Fenny. Good luck with him."

"Oh, yeah, I'm sure I'll need it. Thanks!"

The men were also shaking hands, but it seemed much more genial. Liz waved goodbye to Billy and snatched up Severus' hand to lead him away. She didn't really stop to talk to him, just to the bartender, and then hauled him out of the place to scold him as they walked down the busy block.

"I cannot believe you would do that. It was just a game. With a bloody  _ century _ of darts games ahead of us, we didn't even have to play, let alone cheat. If you ever do that again it will be the  _ last _ time we play."

Severus tugged her back to the alley and then whipped her around to face him. "You cheated, too!"

"Ouch!" she shouted back at him.

He quickly withdrew his hands and clenched them at his side. "My apologies, Priestess."

Liz took a deep breath and rubbed her shoulder. As calmly as possible, she said, "This is the second time tonight you have hurt me physically. The first was fine, an accident while you were trying to save me from my crazy jump that I should have warned you about. But this? This time was a result of you acting like a --" Her hand (the one attached to her  _ other _ arm) flew to her mouth, and she was hard pressed not to giggle again. Then she lowered it and continued deadpan, "-- normal teenager." Then she did laugh, a hollow chuckle that probably didn't reach her eyes. "A normal, hot-headed teenage  _ boy _ ."

Oh, he was mad now. She saw it in the narrowing of his eyes, the clenching of his fists, and the odd waft of literal hot air drawing up around them. It carried the rotting scent of the dumpster, and she needed to get them out of there sooner than later, or she would lose her lunch. Dinner. Whatever.

"Let's not fight," she said sharply, and the heat began to dissipate. "We are supposed to be on a date. I am not pleased at what you did, but, yes, I cheated, too, when I realized my mistake. I would have carried on with our companions when I should have focused on you. Although I think I might have genuinely liked Sally, we really can't be friends with a pair of muggles, and I'm sorry for the distraction."

He stood there for a minute, and she contented herself to watch him, all glamoured up and struggling to control his emotions. She saw the moment where his nose twitched and his face soured at the smell instead of her, but she waited patiently for him to respond, and was eventually rewarded. "It's almost eleven. Where can we go for half an hour?"

Well, this was probably not a great place to cut off their fight, halfway through apologies and nowhere near forgiveness, but Liz felt the pressure of the clock and took his hand once more to draw him to the sidewalk while she asked, "If you've never had a proper date then I suppose you've never been clubbing. Do you think you could handle the crush of a hundred bodies and a thumping beat too loud for talking?"

"Handle it? Yes. Enjoy it? I don't know yet."

Liz smiled brightly. "We can stay against the wall. That will help. And we're almost there." She ducked down another alley to the unmarked back door and rang the bell.

A tiny peep slide opened with a metallic squeak. "What do you want?"

She leered at Severus as she said, "To shake my perky tits and curvy arse."

The peephole  _ clanged _ shut and the door opened. An enormous muscled bouncer sized them up and said. "You, not him."

"I come here for an audience, but he's the reason I  _ want _ to dance." She laid one possessive hand on his arm and used the other to flash a stack of cash. "We won't stay long, but if I have a good time, I'll buy a round for the entire house."

The bouncer stepped back, and they crammed into a narrow hallway, the house beat barely audible when the door shut out the sounds of the city behind them. "My name is Jerry. Do you want the V.I.P. balcony?"

That was awfully tempting. "No, thank you, Jerry. We are only popping in for a dance or two. But if you could help us clear a spot along the East wall, I'll dance in front of the speaker stack."

"You'll have space. It's very loud there," he said, digging in his pockets and producing two pairs of disposable earplugs.

"Oh, fabulous! I like feeling the vibration, but it's good to protect our hearing." She traded him a crisp ten-pound note. "For your trouble."

He gave her a curious look. "I thought I knew all the regulars."

"I've been here once. He's new."

"In that case, Welcome to The Spot." And when he opened the door, the full club experience hit them -- loud music, flashing lights, tightly-packed crowd, and the distinct smell of sweat and booze. She felt Severus put his hand on her arm again, but this time it was to better follow her lead instead of hold her back.

Yes. That's what she needed from him.

After Jerry deposited the two of them in the place she requested, Severus leaned against the East wall as Liz found herself with a meter radius to herself in front of the stacks. She closed her eyes, found the timing, and opened them again to take the first step of her gyrating dance.

Less than a minute later, another lady joined her there. Liz tapped her ears, and the other pulled her hair back to show off her own earplugs. Offering her a thumbs up, Liz raised her arms above her head and swung her hips close, stealing one quick glance at Severus, who was keeping his expression neutral and unreadable.

So Liz shrugged and got close to this mystery woman, and they found a groove, not quite touching, but definitely reaching and leaning in a way that one wrong move would have them collide.

Which they did as the song changed.

Severus was at her side then, jerking his head back to the exit. Liz stifled her giggles and waved goodbye to her dance partner, pulling Severus over to the bar to take care of her promise to Jerry.

She had a good time while it lasted, but it really was time to go.

They were walking back to the apparition point, when Severus said, "My ears are ringing."

Liz smiled. "Me too. I wonder if the Tinminus Charm could be applied to earplugs as a preventative measure."

"More likely you'd need a variant."

She nodded, thinking over the difference between pre-plugging the ears and post-healing the tinnitus. As soon as they were back between the dumpsters she cast the charm on herself, and then held up her wand in question. He inclined his head and then closed his eyes, and she cast, and then she asked, "Better now?"

A slight upward turn of his lips was all the answer she got before he stepped into her personal space. They wrapped their arms around each other, and he took them home.

Thomas had not waited up, so Liz and Severus went straight to her room. Once she had applied her basic privacy wards, she turned and planted a sloppy kiss on him. "Thank you, Severus, I think we did fine for our first date. Might need some practice, though, to work out the kinks." She waggled her eyebrows. "Lots of practice."

With neutral lines and clear eyes, he asked, "Is it really over?"

She leaned back on the door and took a good look at him standing in the middle of her room. Then she raised her wand and canceled all of tonight's glamours on her own person, and he did the same. "Ah, that's better. That might have been sexy as hell, but I rather like you as you are." His eyebrow slowly crept rather higher than normal, and she shrugged, "The ear-ringing gave me an idea for, er, a  _ proper climax _ to our date. No music or talking, no looking, no touching. At least not for you."

She took one step toward him and straightened her spine so she shouldn't have to look up so far to keep eye contact. Eyebrow still sky-high, he gave the slightest twitch of his head, which she took to mean that she should continue.

"You know I'm a dreadful tease, and I am ready to show you just how I can make it worth your while. You, love, will be naked, with your eyes covered and your hands on the bed rail above your head. And I will, er," she paused a beat to smile sweetly, "tease."

To her surprise, he smirked. "I suspect this will be much better than the last time I was tied up." He said this so casually, but Liz was alarmed, even as he conjured a lovely strip of black silk and held it for her inspection.

She did not want to ask what happened last time he was tied up. She did not even want to touch this little strip of fabric he was offering. Eyes wide as she stared at it, she swallowed hard and said, "I only meant you would hold both hands on the headboard rail. I would never actually restrain you." She lifted her eyes back to his. "You should be free to escape my attentions."

"Persephone, if I wanted to escape, a silk scrap would not stop me."

She shuddered and dropped her gaze and frowned at nothing in particular. "I don't like it. I can't. I'm sorry."

He vanished the offending fabric. "Don't be. I know that look. What happened?" His expression turned dark, but his voice was softly concerned when he asked, "And when?"

"It's not just one thing," she said, shrugging and refusing to think of little Johnny at the clinic just a few days ago. "Mostly, I think it's my own jet-setting summer habits, you know, the metaphorical refusal to be tied down. And I guess some more literal stuff as a healer. I've seen patients in jail cells, sedated, or," she shuddered again, "tied to their beds." She put a steely look in her eyes and held his. "The Eunuch tried to teach me, and he did teach me what I still intend to do tonight, but he couldn't flip my threat response to restraints, and I am not practiced at all with the dominating side of them. If you want that, find that exciting, then I'm not sure what to do. I'll need time to think it over, to figure out how to give you what you want without accidentally hurting you... or breaking something in myself."

"Stop, Persephone. You don't have to do any of that. I don't need it. I'm not sure I even want it, and I  _ definitely _ don't want you to hurt yourself for me." He shook his head and took her hands in his. "Don't ever hurt yourself for me. I couldn't live with that."

She leaned into him, and they wrapped their arms around each other. She laid her head on his shoulder and whispered, "I always hurt, that's nothing new. If you want to try this, I'll find a way. I will provide."

Severus pulled back and gripped her by the shoulders. "No! Persephone,  _ Priestess _ , listen to me. I do  _ not _ consent to any intimate acts that you know will hurt you. Do you understand?"

She managed to smile weakly at him.

"There now. You promised a tease that I would enjoy. I still want that, however you want to give it."

Liz closed her eyes for a second to consider how to say the next bit. "For the sake of clarity," she opened her eyes and smirked, "I am not particularly excited by the blindfold, either, and if I thought you could simply keep your eyes closed through sheer will, then that's what I would suggest for the mild sense deprivation."

He nodded and raised his wand to cast again, this time conjuring a blindfold that was more like a blackout sleep mask. "Persephone, I don't know if I'm going to like it, but I want to try. I want your bedroom lessons. I've been so alone for so long, and I can handle any restriction to my other senses, even my sense of freedom, if it means you keep touching me with those magic hands."

Her heart ached at this declaration, but she curled her lips into her best smirk. "Then I want you to undress yourself while I inspect this." She gently pried the blindfold from his hand and raked her eyes once more over the fit and form of his clothing. As he began shaking off the transfigured jacket, she murmured, "Hmm," turning the padded mask over in her hands. "This seems acceptable. No  _ cheating _ with something you can actually see through."

His breath hitched when she said  _ cheating _ , but he dutifully stripped.

She watched his face for a minute, and he did not meet her eyes as he removed his boots. She wanted to try something that she had been considering since the first moment he laid his head in her lap, and on this date all their interactions seemed to support it. As he reached for the top button of his shirt, she said low and slow, "You've been a little naughty, tonight, Severus. Normally you are such a good boy."

This brought his attention, and his dark eyes snapped up to hers.

"I would prefer to reward the exceptional service of my champion, rather than punish the adolescent behavior."

He had started folding his shirt, but he dropped it and stopped, standing there in only his trousers, and he was staring at her like he had never really seen her before this moment.

Liz smiled softly. "I think you've been a bad boy because you are hurting, and I've been a bad girl for the same reason. But I know that under all the glamours and stress, you and I are just trying our best with the rotten hands life dealt. You are a good boy, Severus, and right now, I want to make you  _ feel _ as good as I know you  _ are _ ."

Then she stepped toward him and reached to help finish with his trousers. He was trembling as she bent low to help him step out of both them and his underwear, and he had to lean one hand on her shoulder. "That's right, love," she said, "I've got you, Severus." Then she slowly rose back up, trailing her fingertips on the outsides of his legs and all the way up to drape her hands around the back of his neck, dangling the soft padded sleep mask to tickle his bare back. "And I'm never letting go."

Though he brought his hands around her waist, he shook his head and whispered, "You don't need silk ties to keep me near."

"Exactly. My brilliant Severus." She pressed herself, still fully clothed, against him, now fully nude and with a growing erection. "Do you like it when I call you a good boy?"

He tucked his nose into her natural short black hair near her ear. "Yes," he breathed, and then gulped. "But I think I prefer to be your brilliant Severus."

She hoped her smile looked as happy as it felt. She liked it, too, claiming him as her own and praising him in the same expression. "Had I not said that out loud yet? I've been thinking it all night, even while you schemed your naughty plan to cheat at darts." Then her smile turned to a leer. "It's time to lie down, now."

With her arms draped as they were, she could feel the way his pulse quickened as he eagerly nodded and backed up a step. She released him, and he arranged himself in the middle of the bed, on his back.

"Test your reach for the rail, before I give this back." She waved the blindfold.

When he raised both arms above his head and wiggled his hips to shift into a more comfortable spot, she felt a primal tug to simply mount him, and she had to take a few steadying breaths to keep herself from stripping off all of her own clothes. Thinking with her brain instead of her hormones, she noted that he had again concealed his Dark Mark, but she didn't allow her gaze to linger. They had something more important to do right now.

Liz considered that he might prefer if she applied the restriction to his vision, but she just couldn't. It would be a much clearer sign of his desire if he did it himself. Without touching him, she laid the blindfold on the bed next to him. "Put it on."

"Yes, Priestess," he replied promptly, reaching for it.

She grimaced. His tangled roles of service to her coven and student of her bedroom games was murky, and she didn't like it any more than the idea of restraints. How could she make things clearer for both of them? "Just leave it at  _ yes _ . In fact, all you get to say now, until I let you come, is  _ yes _ ,  _ no _ ,  _ please _ , and... a safe word."

Severus had been slowly raising that blindfold, but he paused and raised one eyebrow.

"I don't think we'll need it, but I would rather be prepared. Do you understand traffic lights? Red, yellow, green?"

His expression darkened, and she mentally scolded herself for making a muggle reference, but then he said, "Yes."

"Perfect. If you wish for a chance to pause and speak freely, say  _ yellow _ . If you need to stop our game immediately and remove the blindfold, say  _ red _ . Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said, his expression neutral again.

He was taking direction so well. "Good boy," she murmured, tipping her head toward the blindfold.

He put it on and laid back down.

Once he was in position, she perched next to him on the bed, not yet touching him. "Now, that naughty cheating earlier makes me think I should be quite clear on the rules. There are only three, and I expect them to be followed both to the letter and in spirit. Rule number one: you may only say yes, no, please, and the safe words. Gasping, moaning, and laughing are also acceptable, as needed. If you break this rule once, I will pause and repeat the rules. If you break it again, we stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She leaned in, making sure he could hear and feel how she shifted to give him a quick peck on the lips. Liz was pleased with the eager way he lifted his chin as if to seek a longer, deeper kiss, but she was on a mission. She leaned farther, any closer and she would smother him with her breasts, and lightly caressed the backs of his fingers with the pads of hers. "Rule number two: You keep your hands right here. If you let go, I pause. If you touch me, we stop. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

She slipped her hands a bit lower to tickle his wrists, and she saw how he tightened his grip on the rail and pressed his lips together to bite back his voice. She kept sliding downward, over the sensitive skin of his inner arms, a little harder than a proper tease, but she still had to make one more point. "Rule number three: You must hold back your orgasm until I give permission. This is tease play." At the moment she said  _ tease _ , she was brushing her fingertips through the hair at his armpits, which made him twitch with the tickle. Her next path was along his collarbone. "It's rather late already, so I won't leave you at the edge for hours, but I do expect you to feel like you are ready long before the release."

She glanced down and saw his erection quite hard already and laying solid in the nest of his pubic hair. This might not take as long as she had intended. She brought her focus back to his torso and laid her palms flat over his pectorals.

"Do you understand rule three?"

"Yes," he whispered.

"Now that you understand the rules," she crooned sweetly, hands drifting downward, fingertips fluttering over his stomach, "I would prefer to have quiet while we concentrate on the sense of touch."

Instead of saying  _ yes _ again he nodded.

She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. And then she withdrew her hands, sitting straight again next to him. Liz needed a minute, herself, to calm her racing heart and slow down her breathing so that she could pay better attention to his.

Over the course of that minute, she watched as his mouth turned downward. That wouldn't do.

She reached with her right hand to barely brush his lips again, and once again she delighted in the way he tilted his head toward the contact. Liz slipped her teasing hands over his chin and down to his neck scraping her nails oh-so-lightly along the carotid where she could feel his elevated pulse.

His expression turned upward, not quite a smile, but obviously feeling the pleasure of this light caress.

She bit her lip, glanced at the clock, and skipped tracing his collarbone this time and fluttered the fingertips of both hands on his inner arms, which made him gasp, and his hips twitch slightly next to hers.

For the next few minutes, she kept her attention focused above the waist, alternating between light caresses and intentional tickles on his arms, pits, nipples, and ribs.

He kept quiet, other than the subtle hitches of his breath, and she learned exactly how to touch to make him twitch in withdrawal or arch toward her for more. Just the right stroke on his inner bicep would bring his elbows upward. Tracing the sixth rib on his right side made him twist away. Playing with his nipples made him gasp and moan, which in turn made her smile. She liked nipple play, too, and she suspected he would be better at it than lovers who didn't have such sensitive nips.

She didn't want to test these reactions for too long, though, lest she fall into a predictable pattern. So she stopped and took a good look, considering the problem of the bed shoved into the corner of the room. Most nights, she appreciated the way this helped her make a cozy nest, but now she wished she had more clearance to surprise him with a touch from any side. She nearly harrumphed in frustration but kept it in check. She was not frustrated with  _ him _ , and it would be hard for him to tell the difference. Then she smiled to herself. They would just have to do this again another time.

For now, she pulled away and stood. He could probably feel the way the bed shifted and guess that she had removed herself from it. But then she could be more careful, silently stepping to stand directly at the foot of the bed.

She had witnessed this type of kink with restraints, and wondered how likely she was about to be kicked without them. Shrugging to herself, she reached with both hands to tickle the bottoms of his feet.

He hissed and pulled them away, bending his knees and planting those ticklish spots firmly into the sheets.

Liz chuckled softly. "Well well, that might actually be perfect," she said quietly, hardly more than a whisper. She gently palmed the tops of his feet, and he flinched but didn't pull away. "Just a little farther apart." She helped nudge him to the right distance, and then tested it by sliding her palms up his calves to his knees and leaning them to touch together. Then she tested pushing them apart, and she longed to crawl up between and rest in the cradle of his hips. Finally she set him straight up again, and she said, "Very good, love. Do what feels comfortable with your knees, but try to keep your feet where they are now. Is that all right?"

"Yes," he croaked hoarsely.

Now she was ready to tease legs and hips, and she did crawl up between his feet, giving her plenty of access to discover that the backs of his knees were quite ticklish, as well as the creases where legs met hips. When he tried to put his knees together, they slammed into her shoulders, and she let out a soft "eep!"

"I'm sorry," he gasped, dropping both his knees all the way down to the mattress.

"Hmm," she murmured, "That was not any of the acceptable words, but I am inclined to be lenient with the way you have apologized and opened yourself to me. Still, this is your one warning. The acceptable words are yes, no, please, red, and yellow. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he said clearly and promptly. Then he added in a whisper, "Yes, please."

She smirked, but she held off touching him another ten seconds. Then she pressed both hands to his knees and said, "Keep these here, now, if you can." And she firmly drew her palms up his inner thighs, stopping just short of touching his scrotum. When he gasped, she knew she was close enough, and she withdrew to approach again from another angle. Every time she got within two handspans, his hard cock twitched upward, even if the rest of him twitched away.

When she was finally satisfied with these responses, she leaned down and blew gently over his aching prick. Feet planted as they were, he had plenty of leverage to buck his hips, and she pulled back out of the danger zone, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up again.

She was admiring the slight arch of his back, and the perfect diamond shape of his bent legs, when he whispered, "Please."

"I'm still here," she assured him. "And we still have a ways to go."

She watched the way his throat worked, as if he was debating what to say, and then he managed to nod.

All the nodding and shifting had mussed his hair, and Liz took a moment to lean over him, still standing, to tuck the stray strands out of his face and off his neck. Then she chose the spot she had before, sitting next to his hips for the easiest reach to as much of him as possible.

And this is where she built the rising action, playing him like one of her instruments, teasing mercilessly, drawing him toward her touch. He began to pant with the rhythm of it, and she breathed heavily along with him. She purposefully guided the synced cycle of inhale and exhale to raise oxygen levels, alertness, and arousal. He began trembling with the effort to keep quiet, and little gasping groans escaped with his every other breath. She tested the arch of his back by drawing him up toward the touches he liked most, and she tested his self-restraint until his knees came up again, too.

Keeping one hand at the tease, she tucked the other inside her own clothes, moaning lightly at the light touch to her own swollen flesh. Then she switched hands, and he gasped and moaned at the cool wetness where she slicked it over his abdomen, mere inches from the tip of his cock.

"You have been very good, and it turns me on. That's me, love. That's the lube my pussy made to prepare my body for how much I want you, from how much I like it when you are a good boy."

He moaned as she switched hands again, bringing more of her essence to his skin, painting it down the full length of his leg. "Please," he gasped, as her fingers caressed their way back up.

"Patience, my brilliant Severus. Just a little longer, and then maybe we can come together. Would you like that?"

"Yesss," he hissed, then moaned, and then whispered, "Yes, please."

Liz shifted her own hips to get better access to herself, switching one last time with a great swipe of her own juices on the fingers that she returned to Severus, squeezing his hard cock and making him buck his hips into her hand.

They moaned together, and then she, thankful for the years of independent coordination of limbs with her drum kit, stroked both of them firmly.

A minute later, she was feeling the frenzy, moaning a little herself. He was writhing and gasping, but he pressed his lips together hard to listen when she spoke again, "I'm so close, Severus, I'm going to come when you do. Let's have a little countdown to  _ cum _ ." She stroked in time, pressing hard on her clit with one hand and twisting expertly around the head of his throbbing penis with the other. "Three." Stroke. "Two." Stroke. "One." Stroke. "Cum! Oh!"

He roared out his moan, and his semen spilled over her hand, and it was all Liz could do to keep that twisting stroke going while she shuddered around her fingers in her cunt.

When the both of them stopped trembling, Liz withdrew both of her hands, raised them in front of her, and giggled. "I'm a little messy. Give me a minute before I remove your blindfold." Then she stood and stripped, using her clothes to clean herself up, and then him, too. "I'm so proud of you, Severus," she said sweetly as she sopped up the generous load, "keeping your hands and feet where I asked, and coming exactly when I said you could."

She dropped the clothes on the floor and took a moment to stand next to the bed, admiring him in this position one last time. Then she sat back down, in that same spot next to his hips, and she reached gently for the blindfold.

As it landed on the floor, too, he blinked and winced at the sudden light, and Liz cast to lower the lumens for ambiance. "Game over," she murmured.

Her brilliant Severus must have understood, because he promptly whispered, "Wow," and then spoke with a little more of his usual velvet, "That may be the most intensely I have ever come."

Liz simply grinned. Then she took one of his arms and gently massaged it as she brought it back to a normal resting position.

His eyes went wide. "How did you know?"

"You mean about your limbs going numb for holding them so long like that?" He nodded, and she shrugged. "Healer." Then she did the other one, and then also massaged his thighs and calves as they straightened his legs. After the rub-down, Liz smiled gently and snuggled up next to him, leaning on her elbow and resting her free hand on his chest.

He made sort of a contented hum and closed his eyes, and Liz shot a quick glance at the clock. It was approaching 2 o'clock, and they probably needed sleep. Eyes still closed, he mumbled, "I am too tired to --"

"Hush now," she interrupted, flicking her wand to draw up the blankets before abandoning it and her glasses on the side table. "My brilliant Severus, we can talk again in the morning. Rest easy, love."


End file.
